


Canadian Girl

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Heavy Angst, Past Abuse, Romantic Fluff, Shameless Smut, Smut, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-20 17:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 72,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17026995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: The Doc spent the majority of her time with her head down, eyes on the pages of her notebook, or behind the microscope in her lab. Charged with discovering the secrets of the super soldier serum, she never noticed the eyes of the man which followed her until one fateful day when Steve Rogers took the opportunity presented him to speak to the Doctor with the strawberry blonde hair.Imagine his surprise when Kennedy, a Canadian girl, doesn’t recognize him. Can he get to know this slightly strange woman with all her intriguing quirks before the truth comes out? And when it does, will it change everything, breaking them apart? Or will it be the secrets Kennedy’s been keeping all her life which spell the end for the Captain and the Canadian?





	1. Chapter 1

## Chapter One

* * *

Had Kennedy Jones know three years ago just who it was she was interviewing with, she would have run hard and fast for the hills. As it was, when the headhunters came knocking, asking about her research into genetics and cellular regeneration, chemical compound deconstruction, and microbiology, advising her their client was willing to offer her a very lucrative, and progressive career, she’d still done her due diligence. She just hadn’t delved deep enough, however, to realize she’d been hired by none other than Tony Stark. Not until she’d arrived for orientation on her first day to find herself at the foot of Stark tower.

Now, there was nothing really _wrong_ with working for Stark. Not unless she counted Hydra, aliens, Asgardians, and insane robots which try to take over the world. Sure her lab was state of the art. Sure almost no one ventured down there. They left her alone to work and do her thing. Sure she spent the day doing the fun stuff she loved, but still, there was a very real chance at some point in the future, she’d be shot at.

Kennedy disliked guns. It wasn’t because she was unused to them. She’d grown up around weapons, could fire a rifle with relative ease, she just didn’t like to. Bad things had a habit of happening when she did. Hunting had never appealed to her, and when her family used to make their annual hunting trips, she’d go along to horseback ride and relax. She could enjoy the beautiful scenery but avoided the hunting.

She still couldn’t quite believe she’d left her ranch life in Alberta, Canada to move to New York City and work for freaking Iron Man. It seemed foolish at times, this move. She’d had a good job. But, when the opportunity to study the super soldier serum was waved beneath her nose, she’d jumped at the chance.

The serum was a mystery no one could crack. If she could, she knew there was a world of good which could be learned from it. She didn’t have any desire to replicate what had been done to Captain Rogers or Sergeant Barnes. As far as she was concerned, they’d gotten lucky, very lucky, with the two who’d been on the receiving end of the serum. Both had turned out to be good men, not that she knew them personally. But the applications the secrets of the serum could offer people with tissue wasting, or muscle degeneration, were endless.

Now, three years in, she was making progress on her groundbreaking research. Slow progress, but progress nonetheless. And, working for the Iron Man had given her props with her nephews. They both thought she was super awesome Aunt Kenny who worked with the Avengers.

She’d never had the heart to tell them she hadn’t met an Avenger, likely never would. She may work for a division of Stark Enterprises, but it didn’t mean she’d actually met Tony Stark. He was a busy man, hence the headhunters. Maybe someday if she had a particularly stellar breakthrough, but not yet.

She was okay with it. The man made her nervous.

Shoving the distracting thoughts aside, Kennedy peered down at the notebook she was carrying, tapping her pen against it. She lived in an apartment off Central Park, barely a stone’s throw from the Tower. It was one of the perks of her position, but she wasn’t foolish enough not to realize what her place likely cost on average per month. Still, it kept her close to work, and she got a little exercise every day walking through the beautiful green space.

Today, however, she’d had a revelation on her walk — an idea about the genetic sequencing she’d been fighting with. Walking through the doors to Stark Tower, she gave a distracted nod to the security guard who greeted her.

Pacing toward the elevators, Kennedy tapped the end of her pen against her cheek. Her messenger bag bumped merrily against her hip, and she hummed softly, seeking the answer which seemed to be just out of reach. When the elevator doors opened, she made to step inside, only to nearly walk into someone.

“Oh, sorry. My bad,” she said, sidestepping the wall in front of her, not bothering to look up from her notebook.

“No harm done.”

Nodding, she smiled absently. “Have a nice day.”

* * *

“You as well.”

The doors closed on the woman, and Steve Rogers lost sight of her. He’d seen her around before. It wasn’t like she was hard to miss. The woman was stunning and drew eyes like honey drew bees. He, however, rarely had a chance to speak to her.

The smoky voice which tumbled from between lush, pink lips caused a certain portion of his anatomy to react with vigour. Hair of strawberry blond coloured silk fell to her shoulders, and eyes of glimmering emerald green were framed by dusky lashes. Freckles dusted across her nose, out over the sharp cheekbones of her fox-shaped face.

Of average height, pushing five nine, Steve had noticed she rarely wore heels. She came to work every day in some kind of runner or, during the winter months, kneehigh boots which she tucked her jeans into. She seemed to own a variety of shoes which she changed with her mood. And those jeans covered a body he couldn’t help but be attracted to.

Everything curved.

Hips, breasts, ass, thighs. She was possibly the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. Yet, she appeared completely oblivious to the fact. The men around her drooled and panted behind her, but she seemed never to notice. Hell, she’d walked past him without even looking up to see who she’d nearly run into. Just kept her face tucked in her notebook, smiled and apologized.

It was, frustratingly enough, the sixth time in half as many weeks she’d almost walked into him. It was always the same. An apology spilled from her lips followed by "have a nice day," like she was some kind of department store clerk.

It was driving him a bit nutty.

The first three times had been accidents, but the latter three… he’d set her up to see if she’d actually look up and talk to him. Doctor Kennedy Jones, research phenome and genius in her field. The woman working to unlock the super soldier serum. Who wrote papers on things he had no hope of understanding, but spoke passionately about using what she could learn from the serum to help others.

She did things to him on a visceral level.

Suddenly, the doors slid back open, and he blinked to see her standing, still, in the elevator. Book in hand and pen clenched between her teeth. An adorable furrow between her brows.

Steve bit back a chuckle. It was as if someone was offering him a second chance to try again. He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Stepping back on the elevator, he said, “You might want to press a button, Doc. You’re not going to get to your lab hanging out in the elevator all day.”

“Hm? Oh, right. Sorry.” She glanced up far enough to press the button for seven before looking back to her book.

It made him want to steal it from her fingers just to get a reaction. Instead, he asked, “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

The notebook hit the floor, somehow managing to remain open to the correct page as she reached for her hair. Twisting it into a knot, she jammed her pen into the mass.

Steve lost his train of thought. There was a tattoo of some kind behind her ear, but he couldn’t make it out. He shook his head to clear it. “Say sorry all the time.” She did it a lot.

Crouching to pick her book back up, Kennedy chuckled. “I’m Canadian.”

The doors opened on her floor, and Steve followed her out.

She said it like being Canadian would explain everything, but he didn’t get it. Apparently, it was another of those references. The ones everyone but he and Bucky understood.

He’d never had a chance to run with the Canadians during the war, but Pinky and Falsworth did. They’d always had good things to say about them. The Canadians were people who could be counted on to have their back. Even reading about the rest of the war, how it went down after he’d gone under the ice, there was mention made of Canadian troops who’d done things no others had been able to.

“Canadian? What’s that got to do with it?” he asked, following her down the hall.

She stopped walking abruptly, looking up at him – _finally_ – but she looked nearly as confused as he felt.

“Stereotypically, Canadians are typecast as the peacemakers. We have a reputation for being polite. Sorry is something which gets used with frequency when you’re around us.”

“Ah. Alright then.” Steve smiled and nodded, intrigued for she still looked completely puzzled.

Her eyes were narrowed on his face, assessing, but clarity never came.

Then it dawned on him.

She didn’t recognize him.

_How in the hell was that even possible?_

“Yes, well, sorry. I have work to get to.” Kennedy nodded, turning back to her notebook, striding quickly down the hall.

Her pupils had dilated, and her heart rate had spiked.

Intrigued, Steve continued to follow her. She was finally speaking with him. He wasn’t about to let her rush off when such an interesting blush had come to her face. “What are you working on?”

“Genetic deconstruction and resequencing. Something's fudged up with my theory. It’s not working out the way it should be,” she said, darting a glance his way.

“Fudged up?” he chuckled, all the more interested.

“I grew up in a household where more… colourful words were kept for really important situations. Like when Matt accidentally shot dad with the pellet gun in the backside. Dad swore a blue streak so foul I learned a bunch of new curse words that day. I was seven. Mom was highly unimpressed, and Matt got his butt whooped. Dad said if he couldn’t sit down, neither would Matt.” Her teeth clicked shut, another blush filling her cheeks when she realized she was babbling.

Beautiful, brilliant, and adorable. Steve was halfway in love with her already. “Matt’s your brother?”

“One of three,” she stated. Arriving at the door to her lab, she placed her palm on the plate beside it, was greeted by the lab’s AI, and pushed the door open. “Sorry, authorized personnel only from here.”

Steve smiled a rather broad grin, looking through the glass at the host of equipment he knew nothing about. Taking a step back, he gazed down at her emerald eyes and felt a little clutch around his heart. Damn, she was pretty.

“It was nice talking to you, Doc. I’ll see you around and, hey, if you can’t get your problem worked out, let me know. I know a guy who might be able to help.” Bruce may be able to assist, but he really had no idea. Banner might know absolutely nothing about whatever her issue was.

“Yeah, sure. Ok. Thanks. Bye.” She darted through the opening, letting the door swing shut behind her, heading for the coat hooks on the wall near her desk.

Her movements were quick, a little spooked, and Steve chuckled as he walked away, nodding to another employee when they called him Captain and wished him good morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one)

## Chapter Two

* * *

Kennedy was enjoying the beauty of the fall foliage in Central Park, leaning against the railing of one of the many bridges texting her father when the voice resonated near her ear.

“What the heck is a Timmies, and why would you roll up its rim?”

Shrieking a high pitched, but short-lived scream, she bobbled her cell phone, practically chucking it in surprise.

A large hand darted past her, snatching it out of the air, catching it before it went off the bridge into the stream below.

Swinging around, she found the same big blond man from the other day lurking behind her. A baseball cap was pulled down over his face, and he was dressed to do the most horrid thing she could think of. _Jogging_.

“Do you always scared the daylights out of people in the park, or am I just special? And why were you reading my messages?”

“Didn’t mean to startle you, Doc,” he said with a smile. “And I wasn’t trying to read over your shoulder. Stopped to say hi and caught it by accident.”

She eyed him for a moment before shrugging, giving him the benefit of the doubt. “S’okay. No harm done. You caught my phone before it took a swim, so we’re good.”

He glanced at the phone in his hand and asked, “Boyfriend?”

She snorted out a laugh, plucking the phone from his fingers. “No.” Kennedy shook her head. “That would be my dad. He has a thing about Rollup. His first win of the season.”

Tapping the phone, she pulled up the picture and turned it so he could see. It was of a red, highly decorated to-go cup. The words Tim Hortons and Rrrrrroll Up the Rim to Win were emblazoned on the side. True to the words, the rim had, indeed, been rolled up and a yellow piece beneath it stated the player had won a free coffee.

“Huh. This is a regular thing you people do?”

“Hey!”

His tone had been vaguely condescending.

“Tim Hortons is a national treasure,” she huffed, pulling the phone protectively to her chest. “Roll up at Timmies is a sacred time to my people. It’s like… the lottery for coffee drinkers. You get your double-double and a one in ten chance of winning!”

He only continued to smirk that same mildly indulgent grin, and Kennedy rolled her eyes.

Returning to her phone, she tapped out a quick message, aware that he was reading as she wrote: _Play a round for me, and if you win you can have my donut… or whatever. Unless it’s the car. I want the car._

“You want a car?”

“If I win it from Tim Hortons, you’re darn right I want the car!” she chuckled, slipping the phone back in her pocket. “I can drive it around when I visit, and everyone will know I won that car from Roll Up!”

He blinked down at her upturned face and shook his head. “Canadians are a different breed of people.”

She wiggled her fingers at him. “You calling me weird? I’m not weird, I’m limited edition.” Tilting her head to the side, Kennedy cracked a grin. “Weird are people who jog for the fun of it. That’s weird.”

He still looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on why and decided it wasn’t important. She’d remember… eventually.

Outside in the vast open space of the park, she was finding him less intimidating. The man was all muscle in his sweatpants and a tight t-shirt. She’d noticed the other day that he smelled like cinnamon rolls, and surprisingly, even sweaty he still sort of did. Why she couldn’t have hazarded a guess, but he’d most definitely made her nervous yesterday. Today, not so much.

The man was sex on legs, the kind of man you expected to see on the cover of some woman's mag, created to make females drool. It had been a very long time since Kennedy had scratched that particular itch. Besides, she didn’t have the confidence it would take to keep a man like him. A man who made her want to climb him like a jungle gym. He was playground equipment she could sink her teeth into.

He was incredibly fit — clearly an extreme athlete or soldier of some kind, and way out of her league.

Kennedy didn’t mind a stroll through the park or, if she was feeling adventurous, a ride around it, but the last thing she wanted to do when she got home was hit the gym. Weights were the devil and elliptical machines torture devices. Could she stand to take off a few – twenty – pounds? Sure. Was she going to stress herself out about it? Hell no. Not anymore.

He was drop-dead gorgeous, something which usually intimidated her. But he was also incredibly charming with his boyish grin. It made her libido sit up and beg. She took a mental newspaper and smacked her hormones firmly on their metaphorical nose. _So out of your league, girl_.

However, he was friendly and fun to talk to, which, in itself was nice. She hadn’t had the time to socialize. Hadn’t made what she would call _friends_ since moving to New York. She wouldn't mind at all if he filled that role. After all, it wasn't like he was attracted to her. Just being friendly.

He chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you insinuating _I’m_ weird?”

Pulling a sucker from her pocket, Kennedy tore the plastic off, popping it in her mouth before replying. “More like _implying_ than insinuating.” She grinned when his eyes dropped to the sucker. “See, the fitness buff in you looks at my sucker here and thinks _the horror_! All that sugar! Whereas I look at you, all sweaty with exertion and think, nope. Sugar _good_. Running _bad_. Therefore, I’m the normal one and you, sir, are weird. Or maybe just... a sucker?” she snickered, tucking her sucker back between her lips.

His stunning blue eyes twinkled with a mischievous light. “Who said I don’t like sugar?”

When she pulled the sucker from her lips to retort that a man who looked like him _clearly_ did not eat sweets, he snagged her hand, brought it to his mouth and chomped.

Kennedy stared at him, mouth agape, before looking at the stick that was now sans candy. “You ate it _all_?!”

Chewing happily on the sweet treat, he grinned before walking away. “Now who’s the sucker?”

“Rude!” she shouted, listening to him laugh as he saluted her and jogged away.

Reaching into her pocket, Kennedy smirked as she drew out a second one, popping it between her lips. “My daddy didn’t raise no fool.” Always be prepared was a motto in her house.

* * *

The next day when she went into work, she burst out laughing at the baseball sized sucker taped to the door of her lab.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Mild swearing, stereotyping of Canadians (I’m allowed, I am one)

## Chapter Three

* * *

A week went by before Kennedy had a run in with the big blond again.

Stalking down the hallway to the kitchen to refill her travel mug with coffee, she was muttering about cellular deterioration, writing on air as she continued to work the problem which waited on her whiteboard.

Striding into the room, she went straight for the coffee pot and began to pour. “Stupid ATP molecule. If you weren’t so tiny, I’d kick your ass!”

“Whoa, Doc. Language.”

Startled, she sloshed the hot coffee on her hand. “Murphy’s mother trucking monkey!” she shrieked, jerking away from the counter.

Dropping the pot to grab for her hand, it shattered when it smashed to the floor, splashing more coffee over her shoes.

Strong arms swept her up, plunked her down on the counter beside the sink where her hand was then thrust beneath the cold running water. Blinking, stunned by the speed, she could only stare at the contrite looking man.

“Jeez, Doc. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you alright?”

Frowning, she peered at him as the cold soothed the burning. “Coffee has now stained my second favourite pair of runners. Coffee you proceeded to make me pour on myself because you think _ass_ is a swear word. _Ass_ is like _crap_ which also does not constitute a swear word. _Shit_ pushes the line, but _ass_ most certainly does not. Case in point: you _ass_. What the heck’s wrong with you scaring the tar out of me?”

“I just wanted to see if you’d solved your problem,” he said, suitably chastised.

He looked like a puppy who’d gotten kicked for bringing back the stick she’d thrown.

“Nope. Nuh uh. No way!” She shook her head and narrowed her eyes. “You are not allowed to look at me like that. Like I’m the bad guy here. Kyle pulls the same crap. Uses the same big, sad, doe eyes when he’s been bad and knows it. Damn it! Just stop!” She pointed at him with her good hand. “I won’t succumb to your whiles!”

Chuckling, he leaned against the counter beside her, continuing to keep her hand beneath the water. “Is Kyle another brother?”

“My horse.” She smirked at him when his eyes widened, noting how the blue of his shirt made his eyes even more vibrant. “He’d give me those same eyes every time he bucked me off. Stand there looking all contrite cause he’d spooked at literally nothing. He’s lucky he’s already a gelding,” Kennedy said, watching as the big blond’s face paled.

Snickering, she pulled her fingers from his beneath the faucet and patted his cheek with her wet hand. “Don’t worry, buddy. It’s been years since I’ve castrated anything.”

Jumping from the counter, she grinned at his stunned expression. “Oh, and seeing as how _you_ made me break that, _be a lamb_ and clean it up, won’t you? Thanks!” She sauntered from the room, taking her travel mug with her.

Steve could only watch, her lab coat hiding the way her ass would sway when she walked. “Damn… what a dame,” he murmured, grinning like a fool. He definitely needed to visit more often.

* * *

“Hey, Geoff. Man, it’s cold,” Kennedy called, waving to security as she shivered inside her coat. It hadn’t looked that bad, but the wind was frigid for early October. She was thankful she’d thrown on hat, scarf, and gloves.

“Figured you’d be used to it by now, Ms. Jones,” Geoff called back.

“Never!” She just couldn’t get used to the way the moist air seemed to soak right into her bones. Jamming her hands in her pockets, she got on the elevator with her face tucked down in her scarf, wondering if her nose was as red as it felt.

“Did you walk?”

Glancing up, she smiled at the tall blond. “Yup. Every day.” She’d seen him around a lot more lately. It was like every few days they bumped into each other.

Often he would be standing outside her lab with coffee when she’d worked later than everyone else again. He’d brought her a Danish once along with a fancy hot chocolate, and had sat with her while she’s refuelled. They’d talked about how pretty the trees in the park looked with the changing leaves.

He’d had a book with him a couple times. Never the same one. His tastes were quite eclectic, but they shared similar ones. They shared taste in music too, though he could be a little old-fashioned. It had been fun, and she’d enjoyed spending time with him in the short bursts they seemed to keep catching.

He nodded, his eyes drifting to the hat which sat on her head. It was knit with fall leaves and reindeer. There was a pompom on the top, matching the ones hanging from the braided strings, which he gave a gentle tug too. “Nice hat.”

“It’s a toque,” she said, batting his hand away, trying very hard not to notice the breadth of his shoulders beneath the leather of his jacket.

“What the heck is a _touk_?” he muttered.

Laughing softly, Kennedy smiled. “French Canadian word for a knit cap.”

He stole it from the top of her head to her squeal of outrage. “I just want to see it,” he said, fingering the soft and warm wool.

“My nephews sent it to me.” She smoothed down her flyaway hair. “They thought I needed one to keep my ears warm, and sent it to me for Thanksgiving.”

“Thanksgiving? That’s more than a month from now.”

He plunked it back on her head, tugging it down by the braided strings. Tying a bow, he lightly chucked her chin.

“Not for us!” Kennedy said, blushing as she exited the elevator. Turning so she could walk backwards, she called out as the doors slid shut, “It’s today! Happy _Canadian_ Thanksgiving!”

* * *

It made her laugh when, hours later, she looked up from her work to see a decal of a turkey stuck to her window.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Fluff, stereotyping of Canadians (It's ok, I am one)

## Chapter Four

* * *

“I’d kill for a chocolate bar,” Kennedy sighed, leaning her head against the wall.

“Then you’d be in serious trouble, doll face.”

Jerking away from the wall, she spun around and groaned, grabbing for her temple. “Do you _have_ to keep doing that?”

Frowning, Steve took her by the shoulders. “Doc? You okay?”

It had been a week since her Thanksgiving, and he’d taken to wandering down to her floor every day. Friday was casually keeping him informed of her location. The AI was also doing him a favour by keeping his late night activity and daytime disappearances from the others.

He’d know Kennedy for a few weeks now and was smitten. Maybe a bit more than smitten, truth be told. She was so… _adorable_. The last thing he needed was his friends messing things up. If she could get to know him without his background getting in the way, hopefully, when she did figure it out, it wouldn’t be such a big deal.

“A headache. I’ll be fine.” She blinked up at him. “Spent too long bent over my microscope.”

He could see the pain behind her eyes in the way they squinted slightly, and the furrow between her brows.

The floor was still and silent, dark except for the glow from her lab. He stood with her in the shadows, all alone. He’d gotten good at seeing her with no one to witness the exchange, just the way he liked it. Shifting his hands to the back of her neck, Steve slowly worked his fingers up her nape. The muscles were tight and knotted, and he gently rubbed the strained cords. “Damn, Doc. No wonder you have a headache.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, pleasure apparent in the soft moan which passed her pink lips. “Ooh…”

The quiet little sound nearly made him growl.

She was so damn precious. So pretty. So sweet.

He wanted to kiss her pouty lower lip.

Restraining himself, Steve closed his palm at the base of her skull and squeezed. “You should go home, Doc. Get some sleep.”

“Later. I’ve got more work.”

“It will keep, doll. Go home,” he urged her.

She shook her head. “I’m on the verge of something here. I can’t just walk away. What I needed was a coffee crisp and a handful of Advil. I would have been fine.”

“Well, I hope you don’t take a _handful_ , Doc, I think two would probably do, but… what’s a coffee crisp?” He moved his hands from her neck to her temples.

Her eyes fluttered back open. He bit back a groan, wondering if _this_ was the look which would come to her face if he were to kiss her.

“Coffee flavoured chocolate bar. I had one stashed in the kitchen. Some dirty rat ate it,” she said, pouting slightly.

“Is this another _Canadian_ thing?” Steve chuckled, rubbing his thumbs over her temples.

“Mmm,” she hummed appreciatively. “Jesse has a thing about sending me care packages. Coffee crisps, pin cherry jam, and all dressed potato chips.”

“What’s an all dressed potato chip?”

“It’s like an everything bagel. Only all potato chip flavours.” Her hand landed lightly on his hip.

Steve felt it all the way to the bones. “And pin cherry jam?”

“Grandmother’s recipe. Jesse’s wife makes jam. It’s delicious.”

“And Jesse is?” He threaded his fingers into her hair causing her to whimpered softly.

Her other hand landed on his ribs, and he leaned closer, gently working his fingers over her scalp.

“Middle brother.”

“I see.” Stroking his fingers through her hair, he smoothed it out, brushing his fingers over her cheek. “Don’t stay too long, Doc. You’ve got to sleep sometime.”

Sighing, Kennedy nodded as he stepped back. “I will.”

He didn’t want to leave, but figured the sooner she got back to it, the sooner she’d go home. It wasn’t like he could order her to go. Well, he could, but then he’d have to explain on whose authority. He wasn’t ready for that yet. “See you around, Doc.”

“Yeah. Bye,” she said, before disappearing back into her lab.

When he walked away, he noted, it appeared the pain was at least gone from behind her eyes.

***

Another late night, after everyone else on her floor had left, Kennedy was, again, standing in the kitchen. It was fully stocked with the favourite brain foods of all the scientists which worked there.

They each had their own projects, some overlapping, some with teams, some working on individual problems like she was, but each of them was willing to assist or be a sounding board when needed. This, at times, created long days and nights where they hardly left the lab. Hence the reason behind the kitchen. They needed to eat but often forgot.

Kennedy, however, liked food too much to ever forget to eat unless she was neck deep in a discovery like tonight. She’d had a breakthrough. One which had looked promising weeks ago had finally come to fruition. Coming up for air long enough to discover she was starving, she’d made her way to her present location, in the kitchen pulling fries from the oven.

The others all gave her a hard time over her snack choice. They didn’t get it. They weren’t Canadian. This was like gold to her people.

The fries went in a wide bowl, followed by the cheese curd she pulled from the fridge. Just as she was turning to go to the stove, she caught movement in the doorway and swung around, heart pounding in her throat.

“Oh! _For Pete's sake_! Do I need to get you a dang bell?”

“Sorry, Doc. What you still doing here?” The big blond grinned at her from the doorway.

“Working,” she huffed, heading for the pot on the stove.

“How are fries, cheese and,” he sniffed, “Is that gravy? Work?”

Standing beside the bowl, she glared at him. “Do not disparage my snack. This is edible gold to my people. You will draw the wrath of the poutine gods down on your head!” She proceeded to upend the pot of gravy over the top of the bowl.

It appeared to make him queasy if his face was anything to go by.

“Doll, I ain’t never met no _poo teen_ gods,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

Rolling her eyes, Kennedy dumped water in the pot, leaving it to soak in the sink. Returning to the table, she plopped herself down and shoved out another chair with her foot.

“All you American’s are so sadly uneducated when it comes to the glory that is poutine. Plant your butt, big man.” He did so, and she held out a fork. Pulling it back right before he could grab it she said, “Now, here’s the thing. You can eat this like a civilized human being, with a fork, or, you can join the ranks of many a Canadian who have burned their fingers for our country’s unofficial national dish.”

He bypassed the fork to snag a fry and lifted it up, dripping with gravy and strings of cheese. “You seriously eat this?”

“Says the man from the country that eats grits.” Even the word made her shudder in distaste.

“Touché,” he muttered, eyeing the concoction.

Reaching for her own fry, Kennedy popped it in her mouth without hesitation and moaned. “Not as good as New York Fries back home, as ironic as that sounds, but still heaven.”

He continued to only stare at the fry between his fingers.

“I swear if you eat that and call it disgusting you and I can’t be friends anymore.”

“Are we?” he asked. “Friends, I mean.”

She blinked, surprised by the question. “Well, yeah. I mean, considering I don’t know your name, or what you do here. You scare the Dickens out of me on a regular basis, and now you’re trying to decide whether I’m quirky or just plain gross for my food choices, I’d like to think we’re friends. I may know nothing about you besides your taste in books and music, and you have an insane desire to run places, but you keep turning up like a bad penny. I enjoy your company.” She shrugged, eating another fry.

His eyes softened in a way that made her want to blush. There was no possible way he was interested in her. He simply liked her company.

She couldn’t read more into it than that.

He took a deep breath, brought the fry to his mouth, and popped it between his lips.

Kennedy snickered when his eyes widened in surprise. “And you doubted me.”

“Only for a second, doll,” he chuckled, eyeing her bowl. When she shoved it closer, he dug in. “And I was born Steven, though most people call me Steve.”

“Kennedy. Though, considering you keep calling me Doc, I’m going to assume you already knew that.” She eyed him through narrow lids.

He gave a sheepish shrug. “I may have asked a few questions. You nearly ran me down six times in three weeks before I followed you to your lab that day. I was intrigued.”

Her hand paused midway to her mouth. “Six! Well… that’s a new record. Shoot! Now I’m going to owe Danny money.” Sighing heavily, Kennedy stuffed another fry in her mouth and pouted.

“Brother?”

“Cousin.”

“Big family,” Steve said. Sadness seemed to coat him like a shadow.

Kennedy just had to reach out, touch his hand, offer what comfort she could. “Some of us come from big families. Others acquire them over time.”

He looked up, and his blue eyes were so vivid, she had her breath catch.

“You’re right.” He turned his hand to take hold of her fingers, but she drew them back swiftly.

“So, Steven, what fantastic role are you playing in the ever-expanding Stark Empire?” she asked, picking a piece of cheese up between her nails and popping it in her mouth.

“Not a fan of Tony?” he asked.

“Not a fan of what he used to do. The weapons and all. Not a fan of what happened with Ultron. And I sure wasn’t a fan when he turned on Captain Rogers and his friends.” Getting up, she went to the fridge to grab a can of coke and held up a second.

He nodded, looking slightly odd, causing her to frown when she sat back down.

“You okay?” she asked, sipping on her drink.

“Yeah,” Steve cleared his voice. “Yeah, go on.”

“He’s done some stuff I really don’t agree with, but he’s done a lot of good, too. He’s creating clean energy and working on disarmament. The opportunity I have to try and decipher the serum, use what I’ve learned from it to help other people, is really important. There are parts of it which could do so much good. I mean, I don’t want to create more soldiers, nor allow the formula to fall into the hands of others who would. And I was pissed when I found out Stark brought me in under false pretenses, but I also believe if anyone will protect the secret, keep it from falling into Hydra’s hands again, it would be Mr. Stark.”

Nodding slowly, Steve appeared impressed.

Kennedy couldn’t help but blush a little, embarrassed by how she’d gone on. She was very passionate about her work.

“And once you finish? What then?”

“There’s always more research to be done. More things to discover,” Kennedy said, turning her face away. “And, someday, I’d like to have a family. Kids and a dog and a husband who thinks the world of me.” She shook her head at her foolishness. “Maybe.”

“Why maybe?” he asked softly.

“You don’t meet many people when you spend your life looking through a microscope.” She sighed. Collecting the now empty dish to take to the sink, she stood to her feet.

His chair scraped back, and she looked up at him.

“Steven?”

“You don’t read the papers, do you, doll?”

She shook her head.

“T.V?”

“I don’t have one,” Kennedy admitted, confused about why he was asking.

“What’s your opinion on the Avengers?”

“I… don’t really have one. They do good things for the world, and we need them, but, I wasn’t too keen on working here because this building has a very large target on it. I’m not a fan of guns, and it gets blown up… kind of often.” Though it hadn’t happened in recent years. “It’s definitely gotten me cool points with my nephews. Aunt Kenny who works with the Avengers. I haven’t the heart to tell them I’ve never even met one.”

“Would you want to?” Lifting his hand, he gently tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I think…” Her mouth went dry. The last time he’d touched her, her head hurt so much it had distracted her from the feeling until much later. The discovery that he’d fixed her headache with his gentle hands had been startling. This time was much more blatant. There was a different tone to it which she couldn’t possibly be reading right. “I would be very intimidated,” she whispered. “They’re them, and I’m… just me.”

Fingers wrapping at her nape, Steve stroked his thumb on the skin of her jaw. “I like _just you_ , Kennedy, just fine.” He smiled when she gaped at him.

“Steven?”

“My mother used to call me Steven,” he said. Leaning down, he placed his lips lightly on hers.

She froze, stunned, but soft lips slanted and Kennedy gave a small whimper of pleasure. Her eyelids fluttered closed. This couldn’t be happening. She’d only just learned his name, and now he was _kissing_ her? But the kiss was sweet, like something out of an old movie.

He didn’t grope her or try to take it past this simple brush of lips. Just kissed her gently, lips moving with hers. His hand softly cupping her face. It sent delicious shivers of desire through her body.

Then, his phone went off, and he pulled slowly away.

Heart pounding in her throat, Kennedy stared up at desire darkened blue eyes. “Steven?”

“In case I wasn’t clear, I’d like to be more than just your friend, Kennedy,” he said, stroking his fingers along her cheek. Stepping back, he dug for his phone. Frowning at it, he sighed. “Duty calls.”

She nodded, unable to find her voice. She needed to get back to work as well. Turning away, she went to clean up her dishes. All the thoughts in her head fled when his hands landed on her hips, and his lips bussed her cheek.

“You alright there, doll face?”

Clearing her throat, Kennedy nodded. “Yes. Sorry. Just… surprised.”

“Why?” he asked. His phone went off again, and he glared at it. “I really got to go, but I’ll be back when I can. We’ll talk.”

“Yeah, sure. No worries.” She threw a half a smile over her shoulder.

“I could be gone a while so don’t think I kissed you and didn’t mean anything by it, okay?”

“Of course. Go. I’ll see you later.”

He frowned, but when his phone pinged a third time he nodded. “Alright, Kennedy.”

With that, he jogged from the room, and she gripped the sink tightly to stay upright.

What in the heck just happened? 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one)

## Chapter Five

* * *

Four weeks went by. In that time Kennedy finally cracked it, mostly thanks to Steven. His disappearance had driven her to focus harder on her work just to keep her mind occupied. It wanted to drift back to the kitchen. To the conversation they were having. To the kiss they had shared. She didn’t know what to think.

Did she like Steven? Certainly. Quite a lot actually. He was someone she could very easily tumble headlong into love with. He was sweet, seemed to have a decent sense of humour. He certainly wasn’t hard to look at. But, he always seemed to evade her questions. She knew only his first name, that he worked here, but not where or how, or in what capacity. And, _holy crap_ , he was so far out of her league it was like a t-ballplayer versus a major leaguer.

It was frustrating, to say the least. All these unknowns made her anxious. Still, it had caused her to throw herself into her work and, low and behold, she’d done it. She’d figured it out. The serum was no longer a mystery.

At two in the morning on a snowy Sunday in November, Kennedy threw her arms up like she’d just made a touchdown, and gave a joyous shout. It called for a celebration.

She’d skipped down to the kitchen for her go to. It was a bit bittersweet after the last time she’d had poutine, but she wasn’t going to let her conflicting emotions over Steven taint her favourite thing besides Stampede and Don Cherry’s blazers.

Everything came together with speed and efficiency. She was just pulling the perfect golden fries out of the oven when a presence in the room made her stand up and turn quickly around. The redhead lounging there had a way about her that had Kennedy taking a tighter grip on the hot tray. “Can I help you?”

A smile flitted over the redhead’s face. “So, you’re the one.”

“The one what?” Kennedy muttered.

“Are you making that stuff Steve’s been raving about? The _poo-teen_ ,” she asked, eyeing the tray of fries.

She knew Steven? Relaxing slightly, Kennedy nodded. “It’s poutine, and yes. I’m celebrating.”

“Celebrating what?” she asked, taking a seat at the table.

Apparently, she wasn’t leaving.

Kennedy decided to just go with the flow. Here, however, was a woman that looked like she belonged with Steve. Sleek, svelte, and incredibly fit. Kennedy felt fat just being in the same room with her. “I did it. Finished my project.”

“Good for you, Doc!” the woman said, excitedly.

“Thanks!” Kennedy smiled as she dumped the fries in the bowl. “It was so simple. I can’t believe I didn’t see it earlier!” A scramble at the door had her turning to see a tall, broad, dark-haired man walk through and glare at the redhead.

“I can’t believe you. He’s going to kick your ass when he finds you down here,” he growled at the woman.

“You worry too much.” The redhead flicked her fingers in dismissal. “Besides, you’re here too.”

“Uh, hi?” Kennedy murmured, backing towards the fridge.

Reaching inside for the cheese curd, she had a strange feeling she shouldn’t turn her back on him. She’d thought Steven was a big guy, but this one seemed even larger, somehow more... lethal.

“How you doing, doll?” he grinned, giving her a nod before his eyes fell to the table. “Is that the stuff?”

“Yup! Kennedy’s going to share. Aren’t you, Kennedy?” the redhead cooed.

Kennedy looked between the two strangers at the table. “Sure?” What the hell was going on in her lab?

“She’s celebrating.” The redhead said. “She cracked the serum.”

“Really?” His dark blue eyes swung to her.

Kennedy froze. “Yes?”

“Are you asking or tellin’, doll face?” he chuckled.

Frowning, she dumped the cheese on top of the fries. “Keep it up, buddy. I don’t have to share.”

“Rude. Thought you Canadians were all polite and shit?” he smirked.

“Nah, man. Haven’t you seen them play hockey?” The black man chuckled, coming through the door, nodding Kennedy’s direction. “Them dudes are bat crap crazy. Don’t know why you Canuks even have an army. Just send a few of your goons over and be all, the bad guys have the puck!” he crowed in a falsetto voice.

Pointing a finger at the laughing man, Kennedy snapped, “Hey! Talk like that gets you banned from the poutine! Hockey is awesome, and my boys will whoop your ass any day of the week.”

“That’s some big talk for a girl,” he teased.

Stalking up to him, Kennedy got right in his face. Jamming a finger in his chest, she snarled, “Look, buddy, I don’t know who the heck you think you are, but strap on some skates, boy, and I’ll show you what this girl can do! I have three brothers, and hockey is right up there with Jesus for my dad. Don’t make me cross check your fudged up ass into no boards.”

He held up his hands, took a step back.

She nodded. “Hm, didn’t think so.”

“She really doesn’t swear,” the redhead snickered softly to the brunette.

“Except for ass, apparently,” he chuckled.

“Like I told Steven, _ass_ is no different than _crap_. Neither is a swear. _Shit_ pushes the line, but otherwise I save the big words for important or special occasions,” Kennedy grumbled, stirring the gravy a final time before turning back to the table.

“Steven?” The brunette pinched his lips together to keep from laughing. “I haven’t heard anyone call him that since his mom…” he cleared his throat. “Since before she passed on.”

Kennedy paused, she’d figured he’d lost his family. This was just confirmation. Turning towards the table with the hot pot, she dumped the gravy over the mess and went to chuck it in the sink. When she turned back, they were all staring at the bowl like it would bite them.

“Really?” She shook her head and plunked herself down at the table. “Forks are for wusses, just dig in.”

The first tentative mouthfuls went down, and she grinned like a maniac when all of them just attacked the bowl. It was quite funny to watch. Out of the three of them, the woman was most aggressive, having no qualms about snagging food from beneath the fingers of the other two. No matter how they protested.

She was just about to ask for names, because, clearly, none of them knew how to introduce themselves when all three froze like an alarm she couldn’t hear had gone off.

“What the hell are you doing down here?”

The coldness of that voice made her jolt. Coming to her feet, she gasped, “Steven?”

“Kennedy, I’m sorry about this,” he waved at the three at the table.

“Why? They’re okay.” A little intimidating at first but friendly enough. “That one tried to get all up in my stuff about hockey, but otherwise they’re fine.” She waved at the black man who looked sheepish when Steve glared at him.

“Still, they didn’t need to come down here and bug you while you’re working. Or steal what was likely your snack.”

“She offered to share,” the woman said with a grin, patting her belly.

“Yeah, lighten up there, pal,” drawled the brunette, grinning unrepentantly.

The black man stuffed another mouthful in, muttering, “No harm done, Cap.”

Kennedy froze.

Cap… _Cap_ … Why was that familiar?

The lightbulb went off, and it was a floodlight so large it had her inhaling sharply.

“Cap, as in _Captain_? Captain _Steve_ Rogers.” She looked up at Steven as the others froze.

From the corner of her eye, she caught the one who could only be Bucky Barnes, the metal of his vibranium arm covered and his hand gloved, smacking what had to be Sam Wilson in the back of the head. Natasha Romanoff was the woman, and, standing before her, bigger than life, was Captain America himself.

Steve _freaking_ Rogers.

“Wow,” she said, shaking her head. “Wow, I am so, so dumb.” Backing away from the table Kennedy brought her hands to her face.

“Kennedy…” Steve said, reaching for her.

Jerking away, she held up her hand. “Wow!” She laughed at herself, the sound one of despair, ignoring how it hitched like a sob. “It’s been a really long time since anyone’s made me feel this, this… _stupid_. Well done, _Captain_.”

“Kennedy that was never my intention.” Steve stepped towards her again.

She stepped back. “Then what was? You _knew_ I didn’t know who you were, yet you let me ramble on about what I think of the Avengers, Mr. Stark, the super soldier serum.” Snippets of their last conversation kept coming back, and she snapped her head up to glare at him. “Is _this_ why you asked if I read the papers or had a TV? Were you hoping to keep me in the dark? Keep this charade of yours going?”

“Hey, now. That ain’t fair, doll,” Bucky said, coming to his feet with the rest of the team.

“You _sit down_ ,” Kennedy snapped, “Just because I haven’t nipped anything’s balls off in the last few years doesn’t mean I don’t remember how.”

“Kennedy! If you want to be mad, then be mad at me! They had nothing to do with it!”

“Oh, I’m mad, _Steven_! I’m fucking pissed!” Marching up to him, she slammed her palm against his chest and was annoyed when he didn’t even rock a little. “Was this all some game? _Was it_? See how long you could string Kennedy along before she figured it out?”

“No! Never!” He shook his head forcefully. “It was nice to talk to someone who didn’t treat me different because I was _Cap_. Spending time with you was fun. Have you tell me little side notes about your life because you were _comfortable_ with me. I liked you. You were different and interesting. But you’re afraid of guns, were worried about meeting my friends, and I was afraid if you found out who I really was, you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

She stared at him for a full ten seconds before she exploded. “Jesus, Steven!”

Scrubbing her hands over her hair, she gritted her teeth together. Then, Kennedy did something foolish. She snatched the pistol off his hip.

“Kennedy? Put the gun down, doll,” Steve said cautiously, holding up his hand when the others tensed.

They all went on alert, and she huffed out an exasperated breath. “Oh, for fuck sake! I’m not going to shoot him. That really would be stupid.”

Rolling her eyes, Kennedy broke the pistol down in seconds,   
throwing all the parts on the countertop. They stared at her with their mouths open, but she only glared at _Cap_.

“I didn’t say I was afraid of them. I said I _dislike_ guns, Steven, but that’s not because they make me uncomfortable. I come from a family that hunts. I can gut a deer or skin a rabbit with the best of them. I just prefer not to. And yeah, _maybe_ I was worried about meeting your friends, but did you ever even once stop to think that it’s because I have issues with self-confidence? That it’s because I look at a woman like her,” she pointed at Natasha, “Who’s the embodiment of what every woman has always been told their _entire_ lives is the epitome of female beauty, and feel inadequate about myself? That I look at you, Captain _freaking_ America, and think there is no way, no way in hell I would ever be good enough for you. That she’s who someone like you belongs with? Did you even think at all, Steven?”

Throwing up her hands, Kennedy stalked towards the door, thoroughly exhausted and embarrassed. “You could have trusted me, _Cap_. You could have told me the truth four weeks ago and, yeah, I may have wigged out a little. I mean, who wouldn’t, right? The man I’ve come to know, like and respect has been keeping one _hell_ of a secret. But I’d have come around because I thought you were sweet and so nice and funny. A good guy and for some crazy reason, you seemed to like me.” She held up her hands when he shifted toward her. “You kept coming back. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what you wanted. Why you just kept popping up. Couldn’t even _fathom_ it until you kissed me that, _oh my God_ , he might actually have those kinds of feelings for me.”

She’d been gesturing wildly with her hands and finally just sank them into her hair, giving it a sharp tug to help her release some frustration. Taking a shaky breath, she let them fall to her sides. “I’ve spent the last _four_ weeks playing devil’s advocate with my own brain cause I thought, maybe, _just maybe_ , I’d found a real special guy who could look at all my flaws, and like me anyway. I guess that genius IQ of mine means nothing after all. I really am… _stupid_.” Stupid… she’s been told that before….

“Kennedy, I don’t… that’s not true,” he said, pain coating his features.

“You _played_ me, Captain Rogers. You’ve _been_ playing me all along. Tell Stark I finished it. The serum’s been deciphered, and the formula’s on my hard drive. I’m going home.” Turning on her heel, she walked away before he broke her heart into even smaller pieces.

***

She had sounded utterly defeated.

It killed Steve to know he’d been the cause of that sound. Silence hung over the kitchen after she was gone before he sat down hard in a chair, dropping his head to his hands.

She was wrong, but not entirely wrong.

He hadn’t trusted her with who he really was. She’d been nothing but honest in their interactions. He was the one who’d lied. Even if it was by omission.

“Wow, she _swore_ at you. That makes you special,” Natasha said. “And she called me beautiful. I like her. Go get her back.”

“Shut up, Natasha,” Steve sighed. “I’m so screwed.” His forehead thunked down on the table top.

“Yup,” Sam agreed, running his finger around the inside of the bowl of tasty fry goodness.

“Wilson, you’re partnered with Scott for eternity,” Steve said. “Just had to go and call me _Cap_.”

“What!? Ah, _man_. That’s like working with an overexcited puppy someone has fed caffeine,” Sam groaned.

Bucky dropped his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Go after her.”

“She hates me.”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Wow, some pep talk.”

During the last mission, Natasha had finally had enough of wondering why he was checking his phone and receiving updates none of the rest of them were getting. She’d wrangled Bucky into stealing it, playing a round of keep-away with it until she'd had a chance to read a few of the updates on Kennedy. It had been impossible to keep her a secret after that, and he had to admit, he'd gushed like a damn fool when he'd fessed up.

“Look, pal, you should have told her weeks ago. _Definitely_ , before you kissed her, which, by the way, you failed to mention. She’s got every right to be mad and hurt because you didn’t. But you have every right to have her get to know you without preconceived notions. We don’t get a lot of anonymity anymore, so I get why you kept it a secret. Go and talk to her. Make her understand.”

“Buck,” Steve sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“I ain’t seen you as happy as you’ve been these last months every time you’ve come back from seeing Kennedy. You really like her, punk. So go tell her the truth.” Bucky squeezed his shoulder.

Steve looked up at the others, got nods of encouragement from all of them. “Alright. First thing tomorrow.”

Snickering softly, Nat poked him in the shoulder. “I can’t believe you let a civilian steal your gun.”

Sighing, Steve laid his head back on the table. “Shut up, Natasha.” He was never going to hear the end of _that_ , he was certain.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Fluff, Mild Violence, Stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one)

## Chapter Six

[](https://tilltheendwilliwrite.tumblr.com/post/161685875473/canadian-girl)

* * *

Three days later when the quinjet landed, Kennedy was skating on the pond. She was alone. Matt and Jesse had gone inside when her mood had proven foul.

Everyone had been home when she’d made her impromptu arrival three days ago, appearing on the doorstep with nothing but the clothes on her back.

The family all lived together, still, in the mansion of a farmhouse, her grandfather had built. It was so damn big one could go the whole day without seeing another soul if they wanted to. Or, as they had been when she'd arrived, they could all be together in the living room, watching the game.

It had been nothing to go back to her apartment, scoop up her passport, and catch a cab to the airport. She’d been home and crying on her mother’s shoulder within hours, soothed by her dad’s tight embrace, and comforted by her brothers. All who now wanted to kick one super soldier’s ass. Which, really wouldn’t go well for any of them. The family rallied around her and had been making plans to have a big family dinner so everyone could have a visit with her before she went back to New York.

_If_ she went back to New York.

Hockey stick in hand, she’d been putting pucks into the net with vicious accuracy. Hard slap and score. Each one perfect when he arrived. So what if the last one may have missed by a good foot to, maybe, careen off the windshield of the quinjet right where Captain America’s head happened to be. Not like it would go through or anything. But his glare was easy to see behind the glass. It gave her a deep sense of satisfaction.

When he exited the jet shield first, she had to fight not to snicker.

Straightening up, she skated backwards away from the snow bank and the bench with her boots to stand in the middle of the pond, watching as he walked cautiously towards her through the snow, carrying his shield at his side. “Rogers.”

“Am I going to need this, Kennedy?” he asked, tapping the red and blue shield.

“Out of pucks at the moment, but I do have a mean cross-check,” she stated, shifting the grip on her hockey stick.

“I’ll take my chances.” Placing the shield down by her boots, he tucked his hands into his pockets. “Cold up here.”

She snorted and skated in a circle. “It’s minus ten. Celsius. You haven’t seen cold yet. Winter’s just getting started. What do you want, Rogers?”

“You.”

She kicked up her speed, aware his eyes were glued to her as she glided over the ice. Making a hard turn, she skated right for him, turned sideways and dug in, spraying ice all up his front.

Wiping the slush from his face, he nodded slowly. “Alright, I deserved that.”

Without a second thought, she cross-checked him hard in the chest, sending him over backwards into the snowbank.

“But not that!” he barked.

Leaning on her stick, she just stared down at him and shook her head. “Just had to be Captain _freaking_ America.” Holding out her hand, Kennedy motioned him to his feet.

His hand closed around her heavy glove, and she helped heave him back up.

“What are you made of? Lead?”

“Just a whole lot of muscle, doll,” he said, dusting the snow from his backside.

She found herself face-to-face with him thanks to the blades of her skates. His blue eyes were so vivid, so clear. They said so much without him needing to say anything.

“Look, Kennedy, can we talk?”

Tilting her head, Kennedy ignored the question. “Can you skate, Rogers?” She could see the frustration on his face, but pulled away, heading for the bin on the other end of the bench, spearing the end of her stick into the snowbank as she went by. “Size eleven?”

“Yeah.” His tone was decidedly unhappy.

Throwing the lid up, she leaned over the bin, digging for the skates with the blue laces. Those were Danny's. They should fit Steven fine. When they proved elusive, her cousin had not been out to play a game for a while, apparently, she leaned all the way over and let her feet lift from the ice.

“Ha! There you are,” she crowed and disappeared headfirst into the bin.

His hands were suddenly on her hips, but she was in no danger of going over.

“Kennedy, I really think–”

Her feet hit the ground, and she slapped the skates to his chest. “Skates on, Rogers. Then we’ll talk.”

Kennedy pushed past him out onto the ice, keeping warm as he took a hard look at the skates before taking his boots off and jamming his feet into them. They were going to be cold, really cold, and she smiled a little, feeling vindictive.

The ice gave her the freedom to move without the ability to escape. She wanted to talk but didn’t want to be stationary while she did it.

He wobbled when he stood, hands shooting out to keep his balance. He looked a little stiff, and she skated closer.  

“You okay there, Cap?” she asked. “You could have said no when I asked if you could skate.” Chucking her gloves towards her boots, she held out her hands for him to take.

His were warm and callused. Strong. A real masculine pair of hands.

They reminded her of her dad’s hands. A working man’s hands.

“I can skate. It’s just been a really long time.” He said softly. “And these ain’t exactly what I used when I was a kid. Plus they’re _really_ cold, doc.”

Skating backwards, she snickered as she gave his hands a tug. “One foot at a time, Captain.”

She pushed off, and he followed, his face clearing of the pout he was sporting when he realized it wasn’t as hard as he’d thought. Saying nothing, she led him around the pond, helping him find his rhythm.

His eyes drifted up to her toque, the same one he’d stolen from her head before, tracing down to take in the jeans which covered her legs, and the puffy, sky blue coat keeping her torso warm.

“I preferred it when you called me Steven,” he said. “I went to your place in the city. Your neighbour said you went home. To your parent’s ranch. _In Canada_.”

It sounded so much like a pouting child’s accusation, Kennedy gave a small smile. “Annie never could keep a secret. Did she shriek when she saw you?”

“Nearly broke my eardrums,” Steve said. “She’s a _huge_ fan.” He eyed her carefully as he asked, “How can you have a neighbour like her and not know who I was?”

“You do remember that I’m _Canadian_ , right? I hate to break it to you, but you’re not our super soldier. As for my neighbour, I never paid attention to who or what Annie babbled on about. We really only know each other in passing, take care of each other's plants when away kind of thing. And, in the last few years,” she flicked her fingers at the wide open sky and the mountains which rose around them. “Why would I watch TV or read a newspaper when I had this to play in. Plus, there was school and all that entailed. Work and research and my job. Weekends were spent with the family or working the ranch and, yeah, I may have been aware of everything that was happening in the world but…” she looked out at the mountains. “It seemed very far removed.” Until it wasn’t.

“And once you got to New York?” he asked quietly. “You were working on the serum, my serum. How could you not know who I was?”

“Steven, I needed your blood and your DNA. I didn’t need to know what your face looked like. I’ve seen pictures of you as Cap, the suit and the mask, but… it really wasn’t important to me. I was focused on figuring out the serum. Spent three years with my face in a notebook or my eyes behind a microscope. Heck, I nearly walked into you _six_ times never realizing it was the same person until you said something.”

“Three times,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“It was three times. The other three I may have… set up.”

She stopped in the middle of the pond. “You set yourself up to get walked into by me? _Why_?”

His eyes darted away, and red darkened his face.

“Steven?”

“Because… I saw you around the Tower and thought you were one beautiful dame. But you were always head down in a book, never noticed the men that drooled at your heels. I couldn’t seem to find an opportunity to just _talk_ to you. Then you nearly walked into me a couple times and I... found an opening. Took a little conniving, but it worked.”

He looked so darn bashful and shy, and he was giving her the puppy eyes again. It hurt her heart to look at him.

Letting go of his hands, she turned and skated away. Halting only to tilt her face to the sun on the far side of the pond, she sighed, listening to the approaching scrape of skate blades.

“I get it, what you did. I understand wanting to remain a little anonymous after everything you’ve gone through. How it must be nice to have someone just talk to you without all the hero worship.” Her mother had been the one to take his side, make her see things from his point of view; to her father’s consternation. “I did my research these last few days.” And worked through a host of her own insecurities. “Captain Steven Grant Rogers, the first Avenger. You really are everywhere online. Guess I should have paid more attention to Annie when she rambled on about the blue-eyed, blond beefcake who wandered Stark Tower.” She laughed a self-deprecating sound. “I have an IQ that could rival the likes of Iron Man himself, but I couldn’t figure out the man I’d grown so fond of was a damn Avenger.”

“Does that make a difference? The Avenger part?” he asked nervously.

“Yes and no.” Sighing, she turned to face him. “I know that you’re no different than you were four weeks ago just because I know who you are now. You’re still the same man, but I don’t like guns, Steven. I _really_ don’t like guns. I know if I were to start a relationship with you, someday, someone would eventually shoot at me.”

“Kennedy, I can’t promise that will never happen.  Any relationship an Avenger has could, eventually, be used against them, putting their loved ones in danger. But I would do _everything_ I could to see you protected.”

“I know you would. I know that.” She started skating again, needing to move, closing her hands over her arms. They were cold now with the lack of his body heat. “There are… things… I haven’t told you about me. Things that may make you change your mind about that.”

“Kennedy.”

He snagged her sleeve and pulled her hard into his body, nearly taking them both to the ice. Once he seemed certain they weren’t going to go crashing to the ground, he wrapped her tight in his arms. “I don’t care about things. I care about _you_. And just to make one thing perfectly clear, you, doll, are damn gorgeous. To me, _you_ are the epitome of female beauty.”

She stared at him with her mouth open for a full five seconds before reacting. “Shut up, Rogers!” she gasped, punching him in the shoulder. “You’re so full of it!”

His entire countenance darkened, and she found herself face-to-face with what had to be his Captain America persona. “You forget, doll, _this_ is not my era. I didn’t grow up with the skewed view portrayed in the media of stick thin women or ones who are overly fit. Sure Nat’s nice looking, but she’s not you, Kennedy.”

He dragged down the zipper on her coat, hands diving inside, squeezing her waist. “Women in my era were soft, curved, and feminine.”

His hands wandered her hips, and he skimmed them up her ribcage to rub his thumbs over the edge of her breasts. “You have _nothing_ to be insecure about. Your body is… _perfect_ ,” he stated, eyes appreciative and honesty radiating in the words.

“Holy crap,” she moaned when his arm went behind her, the other hand sliding up to cup her cheek. “Steven…”

“Can I kiss you, Kennedy?”

She was surprised he’d asked, having kissed her without doing so the first time. One look at his face, however, had her remembering the way he was always such a gentleman. Holding doors, pulling out chairs. Perhaps that first kiss had been a deviation of the norm for him. Either way, she didn’t care.

He was so close that even through his coat, one much thinner than her own, she could feel the excess heat which poured from his body.

It warmed her as she clasped her hand to the back of his neck. “You’d better, _Cap_.” If it was the last time she got the chance, she was going to take it with gusto.

His mouth closed over hers and Kennedy moaned. He possessed her mouth, licked at it, and slipped his tongue between her lips when hers parted on a breathy sigh.

The sinuous twine of his tongue kicked all the way to Kennedy’s core, sending heat rippling through her. A shockwave of sensation shook her to the bones. It definitely wasn't the sweet, soft kiss of last time.

Sinking his fingers into her hair, he knocked her hat free, dragging her head back to suck on the skin beneath her ear, directly against her tattoo. The feather which floated in dark ink on her flesh was licked and kissed, causing her breath to catch and release on a soft moan.

“Will you be my girl, Kennedy?”

“Maybe,” she breathed out. “But… Steven, I have to tell you something. It might make you change your mind.”

His mouth was working the sensitive skin of her throat.

She shuddered, hardly able to think when he did that.

“Okay.” He lifted his head reluctantly. “Tell me this horrible secret, Kennedy.”

“I…” The words stuck in her throat, and she bit her lip. “Let’s get these skates off first.”

He didn’t let go. For a moment she was afraid he was going to keep her there until she told him, but eventually, after a deep search of her eyes, he released her, and they skated back to the bench.

Flopping down, Kennedy was quick out of her skates, Steve not far behind. She wiggled her toes before shoving her feet into her cold boots. “Ugh, I’m going to feel that tomorrow.”

“How long you been out here?” Steve asked.

“Couple hours. Taking shots at the net makes for good frustration release.” She may not like exercise, but hockey just didn’t count as exercise. Hockey was hockey. She threw both pairs of skates and her gloves back in the bin.

“Remind me to tell Fury that when he growls about the chip in the quinjet’s windshield.”

Snickering, Kennedy did her jacket back up. Her toque was still in the middle of the pond, sending her sliding across the ice in her boots to retrieve it. “You also deserved _that_.”

Shaking his head, Steve stomped on his shield and had it slide up his arm. “I’ll make sure he knows.”

Before she could reply, the whistling sound that filled the air made her frown. It was an odd sound, not something she’d ever heard on the ranch before. When Steve plowed into her, taking her to the ground, sending them sliding over the ice and down behind his shield, she was even more confused.

Until the bullets bounced off the vibranium.

“Shit! Kennedy! You alright?” he hollered over the pinging sound of metal-on-metal.

It was completely unreal. Un-freaking-believable! “Damn it, Steven! Not even five minutes after you kiss me, and someone is shooting at us!”

It was almost comical. Almost.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Fluff, Stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one)

## Chapter Seven

[](https://tilltheendwilliwrite.tumblr.com/post/161726458423/canadian-girl)

* * *

Hand going to the com in his ear, Steve bellowed, “Bucky!?”

“Incoming. Three dozen hostiles, fast-moving ground force and communications chatter. We’re inbound in ten.” Bucky’s voice was gruff as it came through the com.

Steve had asked them to hang back, wanting time to sort things out with Kennedy before they descended en masse to meet her again. Now he regretted making them wait. Gritting his teeth, Steve hauled Kennedy up in front of him and urged her across the ice.

“What the hell, Buck!? Why are they here? How? Who?” he asked on the run.

“Hydra. There was a leak. They know she figured out the formula. They’re coming for Kennedy.”

The door to the house burst open, and four men with rifles were suddenly shooting over their heads. “Kennedy!?”

“My family!” she called as she raced across the snow with him towards the house. Clearing the steps to the covered porch, she slammed through the door. “Son of a _bitch_ , Steven! This is my home! What did you bring with you?!”

“Everyone inside!” he bellowed, waving the men off the porch.

“Captain Rogers!” Kennedy fairly screamed.

Striding across the room, he ignored the men staring at him. Taking her by the wrist, he tugged her to his chest. “They’re not here for me. They know about the _serum_!”

“… what?” she gasped. “No one but Stark and your team knows I finished! How’s that even possible?”

“There was a leak! We don’t know where it came from yet, but the rest of the team is on their way.”

Her face was deathly pale, fear in her eyes.

The com in his ear crackled again. “Bucky?”

“Intel came back. The leak didn’t come from our end.”

“What are you saying, Buck?”

“Did Kennedy tell her family she finished?”

Steve looked sharply at her.

Kennedy froze.

“Kennedy,” he said softly, trying to break it to her gently.

“No… no, you’re wrong!”

“Kennedy.”

“You’re going to tell me one of my _family_ sold me out? To _Hydra_!?”

A whole bunch of weapons cocked, and Steve glanced around the room. Hard faces, most matching hers in some way, four men, three women, and a few kids. Too many civilians. “Who isn’t here that should be?”

“Now, hold on there! No one would sell out our Kenny!” One man snarled, tightening his grip on his rifle.

The big man, oldest in the room, was most likely her father, Jonas. Grey at the temples with weathered skin, he was still very fit. Taking into account the size of the ranch, Steve knew he was definitely a working man.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but it is the only viable conclusion. Five people knew Kennedy was done. Myself, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, and Tony Stark. None of us would do it, so you tell me. Who’s not here who should be?”

Closing her fists in his jacket, Kennedy drew Steve’s eyes back to her. She looked completely devastated.

“Danny. Danny was here that first day when I got here. He's been gone these last two,” she said.

“No!”

“Matt,” Kennedy sighed.

“He wouldn’t do that, Kenny!” Matt shook his head only to duck when a bullet exploded the window to his left.

Everyone dropped to the floor. “You got a basement?” Steve asked.

“Root cellar.” Jonas nodded.

That would do. Steve turned to face the woman on the floor with him. “Good. Kennedy, take the women and the kids and go down there.”

“No, Steven! I can help!” She clutched at his coat.

“You don’t like guns, Kennedy. I’m not going to put you in that situation.” He shook his head.

Jonas looked at his daughter long and hard before sighing. “Is that what she told you?”

Frowning, Steve nodded.

“Jonas, don’t.”

The woman who spoke was, again, older, and he assumed it was Mary, Kennedy’s mother.

“Mom.” Kennedy smiled sadly. “It’s alright. I’m not going to let anything happen to my family.”

“But… sweetie. All the work you’ve put in…” A tear fell down Mary’s cheek.

Shaking her head, Kennedy reached for her mother’s hand. “It won’t matter in the long run if one of you is hurt because I did nothing. Take Suzy and May, gather the kids, and go down in the cellar.”

They were all scared and crying. Steve could even hear a baby fussing.

Her mom nodded, eyes sad but resigned, and scrambled away with the others.

Kennedy turned her teary eyes to him, and his heart cracked in two when she placed a hand on his chest. “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you. You deserve to know the truth. Guess I’ll just have to show you instead.”

More bullets came through the windows.

He jerked his shield over them both. “Kennedy? What are you talking about?”

“It’s not so much that I don’t like guns but… bad things happen when I’m around them,” she said, touching his face.

It took a minute before it dawned on him. “You’re _inhuman_?” he whispered, shocked.

“Not just her.”

He lifted the shield enough to see her father and brothers. “All of you?” Each of them opened their hands and let the rifles float before them. “Telekinetic?”

“The boys and I are. Kennedy’s specialty is a bit more…” Jonas glanced at her daughter.

“Destructive,” she whispered. “Makes sense that Danny would be the one…”

“You were nine, sweetheart. If he’s holding a grudge over something that was an accident, then he’s a damn fool. Why I’ll wring the scrawny kid’s neck for putting you through this. For forcing my baby to do what you’ve fought against for so long!” Jonas vowed.

“Dad.” Kennedy shook her head. “I’m sorry, Steven. When the Accords went into effect, and they started making inhumans register, there were very quick repercussions. Many lost their jobs, their livelihoods, and in some cases their lives. My power is reactive. I have to will it to work. I stopped using it years ago when I hurt Danny.” She sighed. “My brothers only use theirs about the ranch. We’re harmless, really, but for all we preach in Canada about tolerance and acceptance, even here the prejudice and fear has been present. It was just better no one knew.”

“We weren’t taking the risk when Kennedy had the chance to do some real good in her field. Then she got that job for Stark…” Jonas shrugged.

“Stark was the one who was so gung-ho for us all to be registered. Had I known it was Tony I was working for, I never would have taken the job. But once I was in, the lure of the serum was too strong. My Aunt, Danny’s mom, has MS. It's why she and Uncle Tom aren’t here. The applications for her disease alone…” she shook her head, climbed slowly to her feet. “Guess, in the end, we were both liars.”

He was on his feet with his hands in her hair. Holding her face still he kissed her mouth hard, uncaring about her watching family. Resting their foreheads together Steve slowly shook his head. “I lied to get close to you. You’re protecting your family.”

“A lie is still a lie,” she said, reaching for his shield. “I need this.”

“And you’ll have it, but it ain’t coming off my arm, doll.” He wasn’t letting her go out there alone.

As if on cue a hard voice called out, “Give us Doctor Jones, and we won’t kill everyone in the house! You have two minutes to comply before we burn you out!”

Ignoring the man outside, Steve said, “What else do you need, baby?”

***

Swallowing her fear, Kennedy’s hand shook slightly when she pulled the gun from his hip, placing it on the coffee table. “Do you have any others? Any ammo?” Three more guns and a few clips were placed with the first. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he agreed. “I’ve seen too much of what inhuman’s can do not to listen.”

Her eyes filled with his trust. Fighting back the tears, she turned to her father. “Dad?” All the guns in the house along with the excess ammo appeared on the table, the boys adding their rifles. “I love you guys.”

“You keep that until after, Kennedy Marie Jones!” Jonas gruffed tears in his eyes as well.

“You’ll be fine, sis.” Matt nodded.

“You got this, little girl. You’ve always been the best of us.”

“Oh, Jesse.” Kennedy gave a watery gasp as Steven’s arm wrapped her waist.

“Seeing how no one else has said it, nice to meet you, Captain,” Henry nodded towards Kennedy. “You take care of her now.”

“Roger that.” Steve nodded back.

“You know what to do?” Kennedy looked to her dad.

“We got our end. You do you, darling.” He smiled for her though it was forced.

She knew this scared him spitless, knowing what she was about to do. “Okay. Steven, when everything goes off, you’re going to want to duck.” She looked up at his bright blue eyes which were filled with concern.

“Kennedy? I don’t understand what you’re going to do.”

“Big boom, man. Really, _really_ big boom,” Henry stated.

“You’re so not funny, Henry. Just get those weapons outside!” Huffing, Kennedy moved towards the door.

Steven went with her.

“I’m coming out!” she called through it. “Don’t shoot me!”

Steven opened the door, sliding his shield in front of her, stepping out behind her. When she made for the stairs, he held her back.

“Kennedy?”

“I have to be closer,” she said softly.

“How close? You didn’t say anything about distance.”

“Pretty close.” She knew he never would have agreed to this if he knew the truth. It was why she’d asked for the shield. Now, she’d be leaving it behind.

“Give us the woman, Captain, and no one else needs to get hurt!”

Else? What did he mean by else? “What’s that mean?” she called out, and immediately wished she hadn’t. “Danny…” she whispered, horrified, staring at the head which rolled from the bag and trembled.

“You don’t have to do this,” Steve said. “The team’s five minutes out.”

“They won’t make it in time. This is my family, Steven.” Placing her hand on his shield arm, she gently pushed it away, catching the eyes of her dad through the window. “Stay here.”

“Kennedy!” He hissed. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Don’t forget to duck,” she whispered, smiling sadly before walking away down the steps into the yard.

He would have lunged for her, but the look she’d sent her father was a message in itself. Her dad would hold Steven back. Keep him out of danger. She just hoped it didn’t earn her father a punch in the end.

She walked past Danny’s sightless eyes and severed head, keeping her face turned away as she approached the foremost Hydra agent.

“Here, I’m right here. Now leave my family alone!” she demanded.

She took the butt of the man’s gun to her cheek in response. It knocked her to the ground, and she cried out, pain exploding through her skull.

“Kennedy!” Steve hollered.

A glance his way showed him straining against the invisible ties that bound him. She’d never seen anyone break free of her dad’s bonds before, but it was close. An urgency to get this done before he could sent her struggling to her knees.

“For god sake, Bucky!” Steve cried.

“You do not make demands of Hydra. _Hydra_ makes demands of you!” the agent snarled.

He went to hit her again but paused, making Kennedy smile. His gun had started to glow red hot, all of them had. He released it only to watch it float on air.

“Hydra can _kiss my ass_ ,” Kennedy sneered, stumbling to her feet. “Now!”

All the guns from the house flew out the door.

Steve ducked as they whizzed past his head.

Holding her hands up, Kennedy took two steps back, one to the side. She clenched her fists and chaos ensued.

Every speck of gunpowder in every round of ammo exploded all at the same time. It was why she'd made them give her the guns, just to be certain there wasn’t residual powder in them which would blow and hurt anyone inside the house.

The concussive blast threw her across the yard where she landed hard on her back. Pain made her hiss when the shrapnel embedded in her skin. “That… was… a big one…” she wheezed. She’d never set off quite that many rounds before, realizing belatedly they’d had grenades, too.

The ringing in her ears was intense. Her vision was blurry, causing her to squint when the shapes of what appeared to be people gathered around her. There was a whole lot of muffled nonsense before her head cleared enough to make sense of it all.

“Kennedy!? _Kennedy_ , can you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah. Stop yellin’ already, Steven.” She batted her hands at him where his hovered near her face.

The clanking sound she heard next caused her whole body to stiffen in alarm. Kennedy may have never met him, or seen him in his Iron suit, but there was no mistaking the sound of Tony Stark when he landed.

“Kennedy,” Steve said, placing his hand on her cheek. “It’s going to be fine. Tony’s not going to hurt you. Don’t be scared.”

“He put half of you in prison. He had to have seen what I can do. You can’t guarantee that,” she whispered hoarsely.

“I can, baby,” he vowed it. “Where’s it hurt, doll?”

“Everywhere,” she quipped. “I blew up, Steven.”

“Something I’d really like to know how you accomplished, Doctor Jones.”

She stiffened more, terror screaming through her.

“Kennedy.”

“Steven,” she whispered, feeling the call of the explosives in Tony’s suit. “I really don’t want to blow up your friend.” But she was too scared to control her power for long.

“Tony, you’re going to want to back off.” Steven looked at the man in the red and gold suit.

Instead of doing what he’d asked, the suit split open, and Stark walked out of it. “Shit it’s cold out here,” Tony groused, rubbing his arms.

It was like an itch under her skin. She finally cried out, “Dad!”

With a flick of his wrist, Jonas tossed the empty shell of the suit across the yard.

Kennedy sagged in relief.

“There’s a reason she doesn’t do guns,” Jonas glared at Tony Stark who was glaring right back.

“You do know those are expensive, right?” Tony stated.

Sitting up, Kennedy pressed her hand to her temple and was unimpressed when it came back bloody. “Would you rather it exploded, Mr. Stark?”

She made to glare at Tony only to catch the devastation all around her.

Smoking piles of blackened remains darkened the snow.

“Oh… oh god…” she gasped.

It was a slaughter. One she’d caused with nothing more than her will.

A great, heaving sob wrenched from her when she realized it spread out from the house quite a distance. Bile filled her throat.

Turning away, she emptied her stomach in the snow, heaving over and over. Once she was finally done, she wiped her mouth and shifted to her knees.

***

“Easy, doll.” Moving with her, Steve scooped her off the ground, ignoring everyone, and headed for the house. Watching her grieve just destroyed him.

“I killed them all,” she whispered, horrified and turned her face into his chest. “I didn’t think… so much gunpowder. It was too big.”

There was no softening the blow. Steve could only press his lips to her hair. “But you saved the rest of us.”

“Does that justify the killing?” she asked, head lolling back on his shoulder.

The woman from earlier, her mother, appeared and pointed up the stairs, mouthing third door on the left.

Steve nodded his thanks. “You can’t justify taking a life, Kennedy. But you weigh the bad with the good, and you learn to live with it. Those were Hydra agents. They would have killed everyone here to get to you. Would have used your family to get what they wanted from you even after you surrendered. You did what you needed to protect the people you love.”

Walking into the room, he took in the hockey posters, the ones of some rock group called Nickleback, the ones that had pictures of two movie stars both named Ryan and the pink and black bedding on the queen sized bed.

There was a microscope on the desk, books on biology and chemistry on the bookcase, and a host of fascinating paraphernalia which spoke of her childhood; ribbons and trophies on the mantle of the fireplace in her room he would check out later.

The size of the house was just mind-blowing.

Setting her gently on the bed, he walked into the bathroom, returning with a cup of water and a damp cloth. Handing her the water, he wiped the blood from her temple while she cleaned her mouth. Moving slowly, he began to draw down the zipper on her coat. “Let’s check the damage, baby.”

It was shredded in places with downy feathers sticking out, spots of red darkening her jeans. Shrugging out of her coat, Kennedy hissed in pain. There was a sliver of metal in her left shoulder which caught on her jacket.

“Easy there. Let me see.” Steve gently peeled the coat off the sharp piece of shrapnel. Blood had soaked into the white t-shirt beneath. It had him gritting his teeth. There was no way they could get her shirt off without really hurting her. He took the knife from his boot. “Hope this wasn’t a favourite of yours.”

“It’s fine.” She sounded exhausted.

“You still with me, Kennedy?”

She didn’t answer.

Sliding the knife up her sleeve, he made quick work of cutting it off her, allowing the fabric to fall away from her wound, baring her chest in the process. If his eyes were drawn downward, it was only to ascertain she didn’t have other shrapnel embedded anywhere else. Not because the white lace of her bra was edged in ribbon which matched the colour of her eyes, or because she had a smattering of freckles across the swell of her breast.

Swallowing hard, he turned his mind back to the task at hand, gently probing around the wound, ascertaining how deep the metal went. “Looks like… a piece of rifle stock.”

“Could be. It all just blows up. I don’t have control over how big or small the pieces are.” She sighed, refusing to look at him. “I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me after this.”

“What are you talking about?” Taking ahold of the metal, he gave it a sharp tug to pull it out, causing her to grunt softly in pain. There was more sticking out than in, thankfully. The wound a minor one.

She was surprisingly unscathed for someone in the midst of all that power.

“I already told you, I don’t care about things, Kennedy. I care about you. You’re my girl.” He pressed the cloth to the welling blood.

Kennedy closed her eyes while closing her fingers in his coat. “I never said yes.”

Looking to her face, Steve found a smile playing on her lips, and gently touched her cheek. When her head lifted and her eyes came into view, he murmured, “It would be really easy to fall in love with you, Kennedy. So easy, I may have already done it.”

“Steven,” she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him softly. Her hand went to his chest. She slid it up behind his neck into his hair.

Drawing her closer as she kissed him, it was like he could taste the emotion that writhed in her heart.

“Eh-hem.” The throat clearing broke them apart.

She blushed at the grin on her mother’s face. “Mom?”

“Sorry for interrupting, but I think it would be best if I help Kennedy. Captain Rogers might want to step between your father and Mr. Stark before Jonas punts the Iron Man’s behind into the pond.” She walked in the door and held out her hand as Steve stood to his feet. “I’m Mary, and I’m very happy to see you and Kennedy have cleared up your misunderstanding.”

Shaking her hand, Steve smiled for he could see where Kennedy had gotten her looks from. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am.”

“Mom’s the one that helped me see your side of things.” Kennedy smiled at her mother as she pressed the cloth to her shoulder.

“Then I am doubly pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

“You call me Mary, Steven.” She grinned up at him. “But if you wouldn’t mind?”

The shouting had escalated to the point where he could hear it at this end of the house. But the jolt having her call him Steven had caused was substantial. He forced it down and nodded for her.  “Mary. Kennedy, clean that shoulder.”

“Will do, Cap,” she quipped, smiling when her mother snickered.

Shaking his head, understanding now there was two of them, he headed down the stairs towards the shouting.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angry Steve, Yelling, Swearing

## Chapter Eight

* * *

Tony looked around at the utter destruction. Not much was left of the people Hydra had sent for the Doctor, but smoking remains and scorch marks. “Impressive.”

Jonas stared at him for a full ten seconds before his temper exploded. “Impressive?! You would think so, wouldn’t you! You and your fancy suit with your fortune built on destruction. You stand there and call this impressive after watching what using her power did to my daughter? You son of a bitch! Get the fuck off my ranch!”

Tony’s suit was already closing out the cold by the time Jonas Jones finished his rant. “Her power is impressive! But it’s even more impressive that she’s remained unregistered. That you both have.”

“Try all, buddy!” Matt snarled, stepping off the porch followed by Henry and Jesse.

“Boys, go inside. This doesn’t need to concern you,” Jonas said to his sons.

“If it concerns Kennedy, it concerns us,” Jesse stated, stopping on his father’s left. “We won’t let you destroy everything she’s worked so hard to build.”

“That’s right. We protect our own.” Henry looked to the jet that was landing in the yard, the one Cap had come in on behind it.  

Tony glanced that way as well. Out of the back came Bucky, Natasha, Vision, Wanda, and Sam. All walked cautiously towards them, taking in the blackened snow and occasional body part.

“Jeez, Tony. What did you do?” Natasha asked. “Our com’s cut out a few minutes after you left, but we weren’t that far behind you!”

“Wasn’t me. It appears the Doc was hiding a really big secret.” Tony waved his hand at the men before him.

“Can you blame her?” Jonas snapped. “Look at what she’s been forced to do to protect us! If anyone knew she had this kind of power do you think they would leave her alone? No! They would have come, for her a long time ago, and she would be dying a little more every damn day they made her do this somewhere else, to someone else! It nearly killed her when she was nine, and she accidentally hurt her cousin. Drove her so deep into depression we almost lost her! I will not subject my daughter to that ever again.”

“If she’s this damn strong she needs training!” Tony barked back. “She’s a loaded gun waiting to go off!” And yes, he realized the irony of that statement.

“She is trained!” Matt shouted. “When she was little she could set off a gun just being near it. Now she can handle them, fire them, clean them, no problem! The only reason she reacted to you is that she’s terrified of you and all the shit you pulled with the Accords!”

“What?” Tony stiffened in surprise.

He’d always known she wasn’t his biggest fan. She’d made that quite clear when she continued to turn down every job he’d ever offered her, and every opportunity that came with ties to his name. It was why he’d finally tricked her into coming on board. The woman was a damn genius when it came to anything and everything related to biology or chemical compounds found in the body. If anyone was going to solve the mystery of the serum, it was her, a theory which had proved correct.

“Do you have any idea what it was like when this registration system got implemented?” Jonas sneered, looking at the line of so-called Avengers, settling on Wanda. “You do. I know you do.” Her eyes fell away, and Jonas turned his attention back to him. “We’ve always been careful to keep what we can do a secret. Never made a big deal of it. Danny was the exception having been on the receiving end of Kennedy’s power. We brushed it off as a misfire, an accident, and we’d thought he’d been fine, forgiven her for it. Clearly, we were wrong.”

“Not your fault, Dad,” Matt said.

“Beside the point,” Jonas huffed. “We had a neighbour that registered when your stupid accords went through. He was a big man, beyond strong. We all kind of just knew he was an inhuman, but no one said anything. The man was stronger than a bull during breeding season, but he was a good man, a fair man. A man always willing to help his neighbour. He registered and a week later the bank called in every debt he had. They up and took his farm. No reason. Just called in every note.”

“He lost everything. Overnight he went from liked and respected to hated and feared because you decided that he had to be on some list somewhere that labelled him as a dangerous inhuman. And do you know where he is now? Do you, Stark?” Jesse snarled.

“Clearly you want to tell me, so do it,” Tony waved a hand, telling them to get on with it.

“He hung himself in what was once his barn. He’s buried in Flander’s Cemetery if you’d like to pay your respects. After all, you’re the reason he’s dead.” Jonas stated.

****

“That’s enough!” Steve snapped, striding out the door, stopping once he stood between both lines. “Enough!” Slamming his arm down, he sank his shield into the frozen ground, angry beyond words. “We all know the Accords have their issues, good points and bad, and we’re working on it, but you can’t fault Tony for doing what he thought was right after Sokovia. Sokovia was a mess! A shit storm! And you four weren’t there! You didn’t see it. We did. We lived it.” He looked hard at all four men. “And you can’t blame Stark for the prejudice of the people in your country. Did he personally go to each and every one of those people and tell them to fear your neighbour? No. So get off his back!”

“Thanks, Cap.”

Tony’s voice was smug, and he turned on the man in the Iron suit. “And you! The woman I’m in love with is so goddamned terrified of what you will do to her now that you know she can do this, she nearly blew you up! She’s so scared that she wouldn’t even consider working for Stark Enterprises until you tricked her into it, and then she stayed, hiding with her head down, not living because she was trying to skate beneath your radar and still do some good.” He’d read between the lines, all the things she hadn’t said, but Steve knew he was right in those assumptions. “She solved the mystery of the serum in three years! Something no one has been able to do in seventy, and you almost missed out on her because you’ve been too damn stubborn to see that forcing people to your will, forcing them to out themselves, is no better than what the fucking Nazi’s did!”

“Steven?”

His head whipped around to stare at the woman on the porch.

Kennedy flinched. “Please stop yelling.”

She stood on the top step in shorts and a tank top, shivering in the cold, her left cheek a blackened mess with bandages wrapped around her shoulder and down both thighs. “Kennedy?” he gasped, “Do you need a doctor?”

“I am a doctor, Steven.”

He arrived swiftly in front of her, big hands hovering, afraid to touch, only to have Kennedy glance up at him.

“Why don’t you have everyone come inside. We can talk like civilized people.” Her eyes drifted to Tony in his Iron suit. She forced a smile. “I promise I won’t blow anyone up.”

“I make no such claims,” Jonas grumbled.

“Dad, you can’t blow up a balloon let alone a bullet. Stop being a bully.” She glared at her father and then her brothers. “Everyone is going to be nice, right, boys?” They all glowered at her, and she glowered right back. “Mark and Jesse need to check on their families, so get your asses in the house. Right now!” she bellowed. Her brothers scrambled to obey, but not her father.

“You go on. I’ll take care of… things and be in shortly.”

Steve didn’t take his eyes off Kennedy, watching as her face paled further. He knew, though, there was no way Jonas would leave the carnage for his daughter to see every time she stepped out the door. Her eyes started to drift back to the blackened snow, and Steve stepped into her on the porch. “Inside, Kennedy. You’ll freeze dressed like that out here.”

Emerald eyes snapped up to his. She snorted out a strained laugh. “I keep telling you, Steven. This isn’t cold.” Flicking her wrist, she rolled her eyes and headed inside.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one) NSFW (18+) end of chapter.

## Chapter Nine

* * *

Hours later, Kennedy stood over the sink in the kitchen staring out the window at the barns and corrals beyond. The snow was falling in big fat flakes, swiftly erasing the blackened marks around the house. Her dad had shifted all the… bits to a pit, but it had surprised her when instead of coming inside, it was Stark who had incinerated the remains, assisting her father in cleaning up her… _mess_.

Tension had been high for a while, the house divided with poor Steven stuck in the middle, until the kids had run in from where Suzy and May, Matt and Jesse’s wives, had been doing their best to keep them contained, breaking the tension by asking the most _ridiculous_ of questions. Her nephews were ten and seven, the girls six, four, and six months. The baby had been in the kitchen bassinet napping when the shooting had started. Suzy had been able to just scoop her up, taking her with them into the cellar.

It had been a shock when Natasha and Wanda had proceeded to coo over the baby. Sam had gotten right in there as well, while Tony had been having a strange conversation about nanobots with Kevin, her eldest nephew. It appeared there would be a second science nerd in the family someday. Vision had gotten a funny look on his face, going off to converse with her brother Henry, and Bucky had thoroughly charmed her mother. The tension had shattered like it had never been, and they’d all settled into comfortable conversation. Her dad was a bit stiff with Tony, all of them wary, but Stark had been decent… normal. Though she could feel his eyes on her, watching her.

Kennedy was still worried, freaking out internally. No one had said anything about what would happen next, and she hadn’t asked. Instead, they’d done what they always did when they had guests out to the ranch. They were polite, and they fed them. Fed them well. To the point where the two super soldiers had actually said both were surprisingly full. It had pleased her mother to no end.

“Doc?”

She turned her head to see Bucky coming around the counter. “You’re going to need a bell, too, aren’t you?” At least he hadn’t scared the dickens out of her.

He chuckled and brought the glass he was carrying to the sink. “How you feeling, doll?” His eyes were assessing, looking over the visible damage.

She was a little beat up, but she hadn’t complained about it. It was the only perk of her power. Kennedy always knew where to stand to take the least amount of damage. “I’ve had worse coming off a horse.” Speaking of which, there were chores to do. Ranch life didn’t just stop because things had gone wonky. “Something you need, Bucky?”

“Just checking in.” He leaned against the counter.

The wood groaned a little under the weight.

Chuckling, she muttered, “Mom’s been wanting to renovate. Lean a little harder. Give her an excuse.”

“You saying I’m going to break the place, Doc?” He smirked when she nodded. “Anything specific I should _accidentally_ lean on?”

Kennedy shook her head, patting his arm as she moved past him, heading for the door. “Funny, Barnes.” She liked him. She liked them all. That was the problem. She shrugged into a coat and stepped into boots, her tank top and shorts replaced with jeans and a sweater before dinner.

“Where you off to, Doc?”  There was a tone to his voice, one of wary speculation.

“Horses need feeding.” She pulled on a toque, Henry’s she thought as it had an Oilers logo on it, and arched a brow when he walked out the back door with her, stuffing his feet in a pair of boots which looked like they’d been around a while. “You don’t have to come with. I’ve done this one-armed before.” Plus, he had no coat, though he radiated heat like Steven, so perhaps that wasn’t an issue.

“Quicker with two.”

She blinked at him before shrugging, continuing through the snow. Shoving open the barn door, Kennedy walked into the warmer air, flicking the switch for the overhead lights. They came on slowly, growing brighter as they warmed, and set the horse’s whickering. “He guys,” she called out, petting faces as she headed for the feed room.

“This is quite the place you’ve got,” Bucky said. “Bigger than I expected. Beautiful, though, with the rolling hills and mountains. The snow’s pretty.”

“It’s a little ostentatious, but it’s home,” she said over her shoulder. Striding into the feed room, she pulled the first bucket down from the shelf. “And the snow’s only pretty when you don’t have to shovel it.”

“Let me,” Bucky said, reaching over her head. He set them out on the floor, watching her dig grain out of bins, placing different amounts and mixes in each bucket. “You know Steve’s crazy about you, right?”

She paused mid-scoop. “Yes.”

“You crazy about him, Doc?”

Kennedy went back to scooping and measuring. “Yes.”

“You gonna run?”

She felt herself pale. “Do I have a reason to run?” Kennedy asked quietly. Throwing the scoop back in the bin, she motioned to the buckets. “Pink, blue, yellow, green, red. Don’t mix them up, starting with the horse nearest us and work down the right side.”

He lifted the buckets, three on his left, two on the right, and ignored her when she muttered _showoff_. “You have a reason to stay, Kennedy.”

Sighing, she picked up two of her buckets and headed out the door. “No one’s talking, Bucky.” Reaching into the first stall, she hung her bucket, brushing the chestnut mare’s cheek. “I killed a whole lot of people with little more than a thought, yet, no one’s said a word about it.” She kept an eye on him, making sure he didn’t mix up the buckets, but she shouldn’t have worried. “I have no desire to end up collared in some facility somewhere, on a list labelled as dangerous to mankind. And I won’t be Steven’s problem. He’s had too many. I won’t be one more liability.”

“That’s not your call to make, doll.”

Sighing, she looked to the blue-eyed super soldier standing in the doorway. “I’m _really_ going to get you that bell, Steven.”

Bucky hung the last bucket and patted Steve’s shoulder as he left. “Good luck with this one. She’s stubborn.” He shut the door behind him.

Rolling her eyes, Kennedy headed back to the feed room, making to collect her last buckets. The three geldings were starting to stomp and fuss, but all the colourful rubber tubs disappeared before she could pick them up. “Steven,” she sighed.

“You’re not a problem, Kennedy. You’re a person. A special, wonderful, beautiful woman.”

She looked away.

He ground his teeth together. It was so loud she could hear it.

When he made to give Digger’s bucket to Rocky, she stopped him with a hand to the handle. “The green one. Yellow’s for the next stall.”

“Why do you do that?”

“What?”

“Brush off a compliment like it’s a lie.”

She sighed. “I told you I have issues.” Taking the last bucket from him, she opened the door to the stall and slipped inside to hold it for Kyle. “Hey, handsome. You behaving today?”

He walked in the stall with her, placing his hand on the big buckskin’s neck. “Yours?”

“Yeah. You good with horses, Cap?”

“Passable. We used them on occasion back in the day.” Taking the bucket from her, he hung it on the hook, but when she tried to walk away again, he was having none of it, backing her swiftly into the wall of Kyle’s stall. “Why are you running, baby?” He looked at her with such earnest eyes, the blue so vivid, she felt her heart just crumble.

Tears fell down her face when Kennedy couldn’t hold them back any longer. “I’m a killer. I _murdered_ all those people. Stark’s going label me like Leroy, and everyone will be afraid of me, and I’m going to be put in a _hole_ somewhere where they’ll never let me out, and all my work will be for _nothing_ , and you’re going to want to fight for me like you did for Bucky! I’m not stupid. I know what happened when you didn’t sign the accords. I may not have known what you looked like, but I know what happened! I won’t make you make that choice! _Not again!”_

***

Steve stared at her aghast.

“Kennedy?” He was shocked. She’d been so calm, seemed to be taking it all so well, to hear words like _murderer_ and _killer_ come out of her mouth stunned him.

“You just got your life back! Just got things settled with Stark. I’m not going to be the thing that breaks your team apart again!”

“Kennedy,” Steve placed a hand over her mouth. “You need to stop spoutin’ bullshit, doll. Nobody’s taking you anywhere, or going to put you on a list. You’re not in trouble. Your family isn’t either. You didn’t murder anyone, and you’re sure as hell, not a killer. You protected us all from some very bad people. You’ve spent your whole life hiding. Let us bring you into the light.” His hand shifted to wipe away the tears that were falling.

“Steven…” Her breath was a watery gasp. “I’m scared.”

“I know you are, baby. But I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

The door to the barn was suddenly shoved open.

He turned to protect only to come face to face with the rest of his team. “Guys?” They split down the middle, last through the door was Tony.

“You left your com open, Cap,” Tony said, looking at the pale woman whose white knuckles showed just how hard she was holding on. “Doctor Jones.”

“Kennedy is fine,” she whispered hoarsely.

A smirk twitched Tony’s lips. “Jesus, even scared you Canadians just can’t help but be nice, can you?”

“Sorry,” she muttered, making them all chuckle.

“Kennedy,” Tony sighed. “You keep looking at me like I’m going to eat you. I’m not the damn bogeyman. Yeah, I’ve done some… not so smart things in the last few years,” His eyes flitted to Steve. “But I’m trying to fix some of the mistakes made. I just thought you didn’t like me much. Not uncommon really,” he shrugged, used to being enemy number one, “I didn’t realize…”

Steve watched the truth age his friend before his eyes. Tony hadn’t realized he’d become the thing the Inhumans feared like the humans feared the Inhumans.

“It’s all so… messed up,” Tony sighed.

He shook his head, and all of them got to see past the mask of billionaire playboy, arrogant genius which usually preceded Tony into a room. He looked tired. Worn down by much of what he’d seen and done. There was a haunted nature to his eyes, something Steve could see reflected in a few of their faces. They had all been subject to some pretty nasty horrors. The same thing Kennedy was currently feeling.

“Mr. Stark,” Kennedy said.

“Tony is fine, Doc,” he muttered.

“Tony, then.” She swallowed hard, glanced up at him.

Steve only tightened his arm encouragingly.

“I never asked for the power I’ve been given. I don’t like it. I don’t want it. I’ve worked my whole life to keep it contained. I don’t use it, ever. I have to will it to work, and I don’t have the stomach,” she cleared her throat, “The stomach for it. Today is the first time in nineteen years that I have used it. I sincerely hope I never have to do so again. My biggest fear-” Her breath caught and Steve’s arm tighten around her waist a little more. “My biggest fear is I will end up on some list and be picked up by someone who will force me to use what I can do. I can set off explosives. Gunpowder the easiest but I can ignite all explosives. I don’t want to hurt anyone,” she finished on a whisper.

“Course you don’t, doll. That’s why you’re a doctor. You help people.” Bucky smiled when she looked his way. He was using the metal fingers of his left hand to scratch the chin of a big black mare. She was nearly groaning in bliss.

It reminded Steve of days long passed. He gave his best friend a small nod of thanks when Buck’s eyes shifted to his.

“I like science. That’s why I’m a doctor. Healing and helping people goes hand in hand with my chosen field,” Kennedy said.

“You figured out the serum in three years, Doc. All on your own with very little help. If you think I’m going to let anyone screw that up, maybe you need your IQ reassessed,” Tony scoffed.

“What?” She snapped her eyes back to the man who scared the daylights out of her.

“Sweetie, if Tony ever did something so damn stupid as to stick you on a list, we’d all kick his ass,” Natasha smirked a wicked grin. “No one’s going to force you into anything, Kennedy.”

“But you are going to have to come back to the Tower,” Sam grinned. “Someone’s got to make the poutine.”

“You are going to fit in just fine, Kennedy,” Wanda smiled, also passing her hand over the face of the horse Bucky was petting.

“And we’re going to be putting a few people on the ranch to make sure no harm comes to your family. Fury’s dealing with it right now.” Steve watched her eyes widen and shook his head at her. “It’s out there. You know the formula. You can recreate what was done to Bucky and me. You’re going to be wanted by… everyone. There’s a target on your back, Doc.”

“Guess it’s a good thing you’ve got an Avenger on your arm,” Tony snickered.

“Oh… _shit_.” Kennedy’s head dropped against his chest, making Steve chuckle.  “I’m so screwed,” she moaned.

“It will not be so bad, Doctor Jones. Your family is quite well equipped to handle anything thrown at them.” Vision smiled when she peered at him from behind her hair. “Your youngest brother has the potential to develop into a strong telepath with more training. He would do well with the new SHIELD program.”

***

“I don’t think–”

“I do, Kenny.”

She looked to Henry standing in the doorway, snow coating his hair. “But…”

He walked through the group and into Kyle’s stall, stroking his hand over the buckskin’s coat when the big gelding whickered at him. “I want this, Kenny. There’s so much bad out there. I’d like to be part of the good. I’m going to register, just me, and go back with them to train with SHIELD. Maybe if I come back legit, it will help the people around here see not all Inhumans are to be feared. I’ve already explained it to Dad. He doesn’t like it, but he gets it.”

She threw her arms around his neck. “I love you, cheeto.”

“God, Kenny! Did you have to?” He squeezed her just as hard even though he scolded her.

“Yup!” She gave a watery laugh.

“Cheeto? I would very much like to know where that nickname came from,” Sam snickered.

“Well…” Kennedy grinned only to feel the invisible hand close over her mouth.

Pulling away, Henry shook his finger at her. “Don’t forget, little girl. I know all your most embarrassing moments, too.” She held up her hands, and he released her mouth.

“Dude. Rude!” She shoved him before looking back at Stark. “So… we’re good?”

Tony nodded. “Yeah… _Kenny_ , we’re good. As long as you come back to the lab and continue doing what you do best. Besides,” he shrugged. “Considering the _ridiculous_ amount of explosives, guns, and gunpowder that resides in the Tower, and the fact that there hasn’t been an incident in the three years you’ve worked there, I’m inclined to believe you’ve got it under control.” He gave her a smile, sent a glance at Cap, and wandered out of the barn. “All this warm and fuzzy is making me queasy. You people got anything decent to drink?”

“Jesse’s got homemade moonshine. Put a little hair on your chest.” Chuckling, Henry squeezed Kennedy’s fingers, walking out after Stark, Vision and Wanda following, Sam asking if there was more of their mom’s pie, leaving Natasha and Bucky behind in the barn.

Leaning against the stall door, Natasha grinned at Kennedy. “You have to come back. You’re good for my ego.”

“Nat.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“What? None of you people call me beautiful.” She flicked her fingers at Steve as she pressed off the door. “Welcome to the family, Kennedy. I look forward to hanging out.”

“Thanks?” Kennedy blinked, a little intimidated by the formidable woman. When the redhead looked at her, it was almost as if Natasha could see _through_ her, inside to the other things she kept hidden.

Chuckling, Natasha waved and headed into the snow.

Sauntering into the stall, Bucky smirked down at her. “You okay there, Doc?”

“Yeah. Just… yeah.” She felt a little… numb. It had all gone down so differently than she’d expected.

Cupping her chin, Bucky grinned wide, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Too bad Steve saw you first, doll.”

“Back off, Barnes,” Steve growled.

“Can’t blame a guy for being jealous when you find a swell dame like this.” Bucky chuckled, winking at Kennedy. “Maybe I need to find myself a Canadian girl.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

He continued to chuckle but didn’t comment, only grinned at Steve and made to walk away.

“Hey, Bucky?”

“Yeah, Doc?” he paused in the doorway.

“Thanks,” she motioned towards the gun on his hip. He hadn’t even hesitated walking in the house once he knew what she could do. “I appreciate the faith.”

“Nah, Doc. I figured if you were going to set off a gun, you’d a set off Steve’s a long time ago.”

“Jeez, Bucky!” Steve threw up his hand, causing Kyle to snort.

Laughing softly, Kennedy shook her head. “I was going to apologize for that _nip off your balls_ comment, but, I think we’ll leave that threat standing.”

“Damn, Doc. That’s mean. You _sure_ you’re Canadian?” She snorted, making him laugh. Tapping his ear, he smirked at Steve and shut the door behind him.

***

Steve wasn’t stupid. He knew Bucky knew damn well he’d left the com open on purpose. He may not have known how deep her insecurities had gone, but he knew she was worried and had wanted her fears dealt with. Leaving the com on, simply expedited things.

Taking it from his ear, Steve stuffed it in his pocket before caging Kennedy against the wall. “Now, Kennedy Marie Jones. I’ll ask you for the third time. Will you,” his hands landed on her hips, “be my,” his lips came to a stop a hair's breadth from hers, “girl?”

She quivered all over. “Yeah,” Kennedy whispered, a barely there breath of sound.

His grin was swift, wide, and a little smug before his lips were on hers. The kiss ranged from slow and soft, to deep and sultry. A clashing of teeth and tongue, to a thorough exploration of her mouth which made her whimper. He let his hands wander, stroke over her hips and up her waist, sliding inside her open jacket. They were hot, her body feeling slightly cooler against his skin.

She moaned heartily when they slipped beneath her sweater to skate over the skin of her low back. When his mouth drifted down her jaw and back to her throat, working its way towards her tattoo again, she groaned out, “Steven? There’s... something… I have… to tell you.”

He nipped his teeth into her pulse point and growled, “If it’s anything like the last _thing_ I’d almost rather you didn’t.” Dropping his hands to her jean clad bottom, he squeezed hard enough to make her yelp before he jerked her up the wall in a show of strength.

Wrapping her legs at his waist, she thrust her fingers into his hair, forcing him to look at her. “Wow… you’re really pretty,” she whispered, only to blush in embarrassment. “That’s not–”

He rocked his hips into hers, her eyes lost focus as she lost her train of thought.

“Oh, god…” she moaned as he forced the seam of her jeans into her core, catching her in just the right spot. “Steven…”

He did it again and again, watching as her face slowly flushed and her emerald eyes darkened. “You’re the one who’s pretty. So damn gorgeous. What did you want to tell me, Kennedy?”

Her eyes rolled back when he continued to thrust the hard length of his erection against her core. “I can’t… oh _fuck_ … Steven…”

“Tell me, baby. What’s so important?” He smirked, grinding against her a little harder.

“I… I… oh… may have… fallen… for you… too.” She ground down and cried out, shuddering in his tight hold when the orgasm blew through her system. “Son of a bitch! _Rogers_!”

“Jeez, shit, doll!” Caught between her thighs, Steve fought down his own burning release. He wasn’t about to come in his shorts like some virgin, but it had been damn close. Holding her tight to the wall, he took her mouth in a bruising kiss, sucking the lower lip like he’d like to devour her. “That was so hot, baby,” he finally managed to growl against her lips. “You’re so pretty when you come like that.”

Slowly, Kennedy opened her eyes and smiled. “The first day I met you, I wanted to climb you like a jungle gym. You’re like sex on legs, Cap.”

“Holy… _fuck_ , Kennedy.” He was going to take her right there in the barn if she kept saying things like that. “What happened to my nice little Canadian girl?”

Chuckling softly, Kennedy wrapped her arms behind his neck and pulled him closer. “Oh, I can be nice, Cap. Super nice. I know all kinds of _nice_ things.” She drew him down, whispered in his ear.

His brow furrowed a little when he pulled back to look at her, hazy-eyed and biting her lip. “What’s a sticky flapjack?”

She snickered softly, a little blush coming to her cheeks when she smiled. “Canadians are also well known for enjoying their maple syrup, Steven.” She bit her cheek and waited, watching as he finally caught her meaning.

“Oh? _Oh_!”

Her eyes danced with amusement.

He cocked a brow at her. “Sticky indeed.”

Kennedy burst out laughing and kissed him again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Smut! (18+), swearing, angst, Steve's dirty mouth, past emotional abuse, Stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one)

## Chapter Ten 

* * *

The big ranch house, a place used to holding family gatherings, was nearly a hotel which Steve found himself haunting later that night after everyone had gone to bed. He’d managed to contain himself when it came to Kennedy, returning them both back to the house, ignoring the smirking faces of his team who had unanimously decided to accept the Jones’s offer to spend the night. There was more than enough space.

When he’d asked about the size of the house, Jonas had given a small grin, made a comment about rodeo Steve failed to understand, but the gist was Jonas had made his money riding the circuit as a young man, fallen in love with an oilman’s daughter, and followed her home to this little piece of paradise. They raised rodeo stock and loved it, and the family had stuck to the house – why wouldn’t they – even after Matt and Jesse had married. They made it work and the only one to move away had been Kennedy.

The house had been a gift from Mary’s daddy. A _showpiece_ and, at the time, a rub in his face when it came to their financial differences. But, with years and children and family dinners, they had made peace with each other, filling the house with love and laughter and happiness. Mary’s daddy had been gone for years, but the house stood still as testament to what was once his love for his little girl. It was clear Jonas loved his own little girl in the same way.

All around the study he stood in, Steve could see bits and pieces of her life, of Kennedy’s life. Family photos, mementos, knickknacks. He even recognized a few as things she’d talked to him about, quirky little anecdotes of her life. He could see, now, why it was she longed for a home and a family of her own one day. When she’d come from a life like _this_ , how could she not want to give the same in the future?

But now, standing in her life, could _he_ give her all the things she deserved? The way he lived, the danger and the violence, was that really what was best for Kennedy? It was, technically, too late now as she was neck deep in it.

On the mantel above the fireplace, Steve picked up the picture of Kennedy as a smiling fourteen-ish-year-old.

Her hair was in pigtails. She was hugging the neck of a much smaller version of Kyle. It was downright adorable how happy she looked.

“You going to lurk or join me?” Steve glanced towards the door where Kennedy’s youngest brother was standing.

“Sorry, Steve. Just didn’t want to interrupt.” Henry wandered in, hands in his pockets to stare down at the picture in his grip. “She was so damn happy that day. Dad brought home Kyle for her birthday. She went through the roof. Pretty much lived in the barn for a solid month.”

Steve smiled at that. “She seems the type. Puts her heart and soul into whatever she loves most.”

Glancing his way, Henry murmured, “She radiates the same emotion today she did that day. You make my sister _real_ happy, Steve.”

“But can I keep her happy?” The words slipped out, and he sighed, placing the picture back on the mantel. Clearly, he was more tired than he wanted to admit.

“You’re shitting me, right?” Henry scoffed. “You _finally_ get her to say yes, and now _you’re_ second-guessing yourself?”

“I can’t give her this, Henry.”

“Did she ask you to?”

Steve looked up at the door where Kennedy stood staring at him. “Now who needs the bell?”

“Henry, can you give us some privacy?” Kennedy asked.

Her brother kissed her cheek as he left, closing the door behind him, the snick of the mechanism showing he’d locked them in the room lit only by the warm glow from the fireplace.

Pulling the robe she had on tighter around her body, Kennedy sauntered toward him. “What’s going on, Steven?”

He swallowed hard for she stood before him in a silky white robe which swung around her knees, clinging to all those curves.

Bathed in the firelight, he was hard-pressed to hold his focus until his eyes drifted up to her face and the black and blue shiner. Gently, he reached out to cup her cheek, run his thumb below the bruise. “You have a pretty amazing family, Kennedy.”

“I’d like to think so,” she smiled softly, leaning into his hand.

“What if… this is so...” He waved at the room.

She seemed to know he meant more than that. “You make me happy, Steven. Don’t make me second guess that. I’m not a confident person even though I fake it. You can’t ask me to be your girl and then take it back.”

“I’m not, Kennedy. I promise you I’m not.” He brought his other hand up to hold her face gently between his palms. “You’re life has been so… _full_. What if I can’t give you this? What if I stop making you happy?”

“My grandmother use to have this saying. It was _don’t borrow trouble_. I could just as easily say someday you’ll get tired of me.” When he made to protest, she held up her hand. “I’m not adventurous. I’d rather sit in the sun and read a book than go for a run in Central Park. I like music over movies. My microscope over television. I like going for a ride in the mountains, and skating on the pond in the winter. I think the gym is the devil’s playground, and I can spend hours in the lab where I forget the world outside it exists.”

“There ain’t nothing wrong with any of those things, doll face,” Steve said. “But can you be happy with me if I can never give you a home like this? A _life_ like this?”

“I have a home like this when I want it, and I like my life just fine. Are you going to change that on me, Steven?”

“Maybe. A little,” he admitted softly. “You’re going to need security. Might be best if you just move into the Tower.”

She sighed softly and placed her hands on his chest. “I think… aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves?”

“What you mean by that, Kennedy?” He liked the way her hands fluttered a little before they landed like she wasn’t quite sure just where to place them because she wanted to touch everything.

“We haven’t even gone out on a date, Steven. You’re talking the future and family and a home, making comments about moving into the Tower, and don’t think I don’t know _exactly_ where you think I should be living,” she sighed. “What if… what if…” She flushed red and looked away from his eyes.

“What if what, doll?” he asked.

“What if you and I don’t… _fit_?” she whispered.

It took him a second of studying her flushed face to understand she meant what if he was disappointed with her physically. “This coming from the sexy little thing I’m nearly tumbled in the barn?”

“I’m not,” she sighed.

“Not what, baby?” he whispered leaning down to lightly nip at her lips.

“Little… or sexy.”

He frowned, shaking his head slowly in disbelief. “How can you not see it? You’re so damn beautiful. Who broke your confidence, Kennedy? What stupid fool ever told you, you weren’t the Almighty's most perfect creation?” Threading his hands into her hair, he fanded it out around her shoulders. “You have hair like corn silk which has been touched by the blush of a rose. One morning in the Tower I saw you highlighted by the dawn and your hair was the same colour as the sunrise. Later that day, when the sun was bright, it was caught in a shaft of light and glowed with deep red flame. And right now, it’s pinker than blonde in the firelight, like the petals of a peony.”

“Steven…” Tears filled her eyes when her heart skipped a beat, something he could actually hear happen.

But he wasn’t finished. “You have the most vivid green eyes. Emeralds are jealous of their colour. The freckles on your nose are where the angles kissed you. You have this full, pouty lip that juts out a little when you chew the cap of your pen. It makes me crazy with how much I want to sink my teeth into it. Just bite it, Kennedy, and pull it between my own.”

Her breathing was getting faster, heavier, and he smiled softly.

He hadn’t planned on seducing her in her parent’s house – seducing her later, yeah – but he wasn’t about to let these crazy thoughts of being _less_ than the treasure she was linger in her mind.

Tracing his hands over her shoulders and down her arms, he took her by the hands, drawing her down to kneel on the rug before the flickering flames. The crackle of wood and fire was a perfect backdrop to her soft moan when he lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the inside of her wrist. “Tell me what they told you. Let me prove them wrong.”

“I… Steven…” she whispered, voice hesitant.

He reached slowly for the belt on her robe.

She turned her face away.

“Don’t you do that, baby. Don’t you look away.” He captured her chin, turning her eyes back to his. “Tell me who hurt you?”

Sighing, she placed her hands back on the thin cotton of his t-shirt. “My ex, at Uni. I was always… a little too heavy, a little too thick in this area or that. It was a good thing I was smart because I was too big to be pretty. I’d never do better than him, and I should be happy he liked _chunky_ women.”

“What else?” he growled, angry and trying to not to show it, but there was more. He could see it on her face.

“I was,” she swallowed hard, “A disappointment. Cold and… stiff,” she whispered.

“Screw that nonsense!” Steve snarled, dragging the belt on her robe open. “The woman who came for me in the barn tonight was neither cold nor stiff. She was a vixen. All flames and heat and teasing promises of maple syrup.”

She grabbed for the edges of her robe, but he just captured her hands, dragging her forcibly into his lap where she had to straddle his thighs.

“Steven!” Kennedy gasped, suddenly face to face with him. Her arms flew to wrap around his neck as red rushed to her face.

Holding her knees, making sure she couldn’t escape, Steve did what he’d always wanted to and nipped her lip, sucking it between his teeth. He groaned when she whimpered. “Fuck, baby.” Slowly, he moved his hands up her thighs and could have growled when he encountered the bandages which wrapped them. He wanted to touch her, not some fabric. Pulling back he asked, “How bad are you hurt?” He would have to go slow in showing her how desirable she was if her injuries were severe.

“Little cuts, nicks and scratches really. This was just quicker than Band-Aids.”

She gasped when the cold metal of his quickly palmed blade slipped between the bandages and her skin. The knife was very sharp, and he was very careful.

Shoving the blade back in the sheath at the small of his back, Steve slipped his hands beneath the bandages, peeling them carefully open. They fell away to reveal what she’d said, minor nicks and cuts, bruises, nothing as bad as her shoulder. But uncovered, with the white silk gown barely hitting the tops of her thighs, leaving all that skin on display, he groaned. They were sky high gams of perfect flesh which he squeezed lightly, working from the knees up to her hips. “You’re so fucking perfect, Kennedy.”

Sliding his hands around, he gripped gentle handfuls of her apple bottom, moaning quietly. “So soft.” Releasing the handfuls, his hands made quick work to glide up to her hips, slide around to run up her gently rounded belly. She had a soft little pouch that he thought was adorable. “My girl is so soft, so very soft. I want to kiss every inch of your exceptional gams, bite that amazing ass, and  sleep with my head pillowed right here.”

Her eyes had long since fluttered shut.

He leaned close to whisper in her ear, “And I haven’t even gotten to you breasts yet.”

Panting, Kennedy said, “You’re a little… _dirty_ , aren’t you, Steven?”

“For you, baby? I could get filthy,” he whispered against her cheek, lowering her slowly back to the rug. He had the feeling she liked a little dirty talk.

“God! Steven.” A whimper escaped her when his lips attacked her throat, and his hands rucked her nightgown up.

“Let me show you. Let me show you what you do to me,” he said, pressing his lips into her soft, smooth skin, which smelled of peaches. He just wanted to bite her, sink his face between her legs, and see if she tasted just as good.

“Steven…” Kennedy moaned, hands sinking into his hair as his hands stroked over her stomach, hips, and thighs.

He touched all the parts of her she was so insecure about, hoping to show her just how beautiful she was. “And, as for the haven’t even been on a date portion of your argument, one could say we’ve been dating for weeks. Coffee dates, late nights of talking and spending time together. You made me a meal, and I’ve met your parents, doll face,” Steve chuckled, tracing his lips over her throat and down across her collarbone.

“But… I didn’t even… know you liked me till four weeks ago,” she panted. Kennedy whined softly when his teeth closed firmly in the straining cords of her neck, a wicked little reprimand.

“We’re going to work on that confidence, baby.” Pulling back, Steve looked down on her laid out in the firelight, all glowing skin and shimmering white nightgown. Her soft belly flowed into rounded hips and strong thighs, while her core was covered in the most beautiful white lace. “You’re like some virginal sacrifice waiting for rescue.”

He’d loved Peggy once, had had something special with Sharon for a little while, but this girl, this sweet, tough, amazing woman, did things to him on a visceral level. He wanted to protect, to cherish, to possess every bit of her and to love her with every ounce of his soul.

She was gentle and good and wholesome. And she needed him to stand as her shield from both the outside world and her own inner demons.

She looked at him hovering above her, her hands still in his hair before they fell to his shoulders. Green eyes, pupils blown, gazed up at him.  

He couldn’t help but see the lust, the desire on her face. Everything he was saying to her, all of it, he meant every word which came from his mouth. He could only pray she believed him.

He watched her breathe and then he watched her come alive. The tense nature of her body softened, a smile flirted with her lips, her emerald eyes gleamed with a sultry heat, and she traced her fingers over his chest.

It was fucking hot!

***

Taking a deep breath, letting go of some of her anxieties, Kennedy reached for the girl she’d once been.

The one who had punched Larry MacGregor in the face for teasing her best friend. The one who had done a dead man’s hang off her horse when she was eleven because Matt had said she was chicken. The one who’d walked into Stark Tower her first day of work with a smile on her face even though deep down she was terrified.

Steven was looking at the parts of her she was most ashamed of like he’d never seen anything more glorious in his whole life.

She wasn’t going to turn down Captain Sex on Legs because she had stage fright.

Closing her fists in his shirt, Kennedy whispered, “Are you here to rescue me, _soldier_?” She didn’t think his eyes could get any bigger, but they did.

“Sweet Jesus…” he whispered, excitement lacing his voice. “Yeah, yeah I can be your soldier, baby.”

“You going to save me, _Captain_?” Kennedy smiled, dragging her nails down his broad chest. Slowly, she drew them back up, bringing the material with her.

“Hell yeah!” He let her draw his shirt over his head, yanking it off his arms, looking down in time to watch her mouth fall open on a breathless moan. “Kennedy?”

Her hands fluttered, almost afraid to touch once he revealed all that muscle.

He was like a sculpted masterpiece, something carved from marble which had been given life.

“My god, Steven. You’re beautiful.”

Drawing her up, he tenderly kissed her lips, moving along her jaw as he slowly and carefully pushed her robe from her shoulders before gathering the hem of her nightgown in his hands. “You’re beautiful. This is all because I was given the serum.”

“The body maybe, but the serum doesn’t change who you are on the inside.” Lifting her arms, she allowed him to draw the nightshirt over her head. She took his face in her hands. “You’re a _good man_ , Steven. You’ve always been a good man.”

His hands found her bare back. He drew her in to hold her tight against him. “Damn. You just slay me, Kennedy. Is it any wonder my heart falls at your feet every time I look at you?”

“Steven,” she breathed, kissing him with everything she had, her own heart landing with a splat at his.

He took her gently back to the ground, pressing her into the soft, synthetic fur of the rug, drawing his hands over her flesh and up her ribcage. She moaned quietly when his hand surrounded her breast and beaded nipple. Pulling away from her lips, Steven worked his way down her throat to the hollow at the base where he pressed a sweet kiss. Her collarbones got a stroking of his tongue before teeth nipped them. She gave a soft gasp, and he growled. The sound was sexy as hell.

Working down towards his hand, he found the smattering of freckles across her breasts and groaned. “I love these. They’re like a road map of Kennedy. Little marks to show me the way to heaven. And heaven is right here in the form of a breast that is a perfect handful with a pretty berry.” He took it in his mouth, laving his tongue over her.

“Ah!” she breathed out a harsh exhale, a wealth of pleasure pounding through her body. He switched sides and lavished back and forth, squeezing her breasts together gently so he could pop off one nipple and suckle the other.

Her legs went around his waist, but he braced against her tight hold.

“Not yet, doll. Not just yet. You’re such a pretty thing. So perfect. Going to eat you up, baby.”

He made her whimper, moan out his name when he began to kiss his way down her stomach. He stopped at one point, right along her rib cage, sucking a hard mark into her skin.

She gave a gasping cry of _Steven_ , but he only chuckled, continuing down towards the lace covering the last of her.

Tracing his hand over her stomach, lingering on the purple hickey he’d left, he smiled a wicked grin, evidently proud of his handiwork. Skimming his fingers over her mound, he passed his index finger over her core making her groan. “You’re so wet already.” He pressed up, watched her gasp, hands scrabbling for purchase, finally falling to dig into the rug.

Her legs went weak, sliding from his hips. “Oh, _fuck_ , Steven!”

He rubbed a small circle, making her squirm. “You going to come for me again, sweetheart? Come on my hand? Or would you rather I show you what my tongue can do?” She gasped a little moan, causing him to smile. “Dirty little thing. You want my mouth on you? You want me sucking on your sweet pussy? Licking it till you come?”

“Yes!” Kennedy gasped. Her underwear disappeared down her legs.

“All you gotta do is ask, baby. You’re soldier’s just a-waitin' his orders,” he chuckled when she squirmed and bucked her hips.

“Then put that filthy mouth to use, Rogers!”

He grinned at her, eyes heavy-lidded and pearly teeth flashing. “Yes, ma’am.” Shuffling backwards, Steven took her ass in his hands, lifting her up to his mouth.

Her breath broke with the first sinful lick and kiss he placed on her. When he moaned, eyes shutting and face locked in rapture, Kennedy whimpered because, _dear lord_ , she had never seen a more erotic sight.

Steve Rogers, Captain _freaking_ American himself, was tonguing her like a pro and looked to be having a very good time. One particularly hard suck had her arching back, moaning out his name.

“Watch the volume, baby girl. I want to hear you scream for me, but this probably isn’t the best place for that.” Stroking his tongue up her dripping sheath he kissed her clit, sucking the little bundle vigorously.

“Oh my god… _Steven_ …” she panted harshly, latching her hand in his hair. “Less talking.”

“Mmmm,” he hummed softly, watching her eyes go wide before he attacked her clit with single-minded vigour.

It was so good, she had to let go of his hair, so she didn’t wrench it out. “Fuck…” His tongue was flicking and circling, driving her up. She finally had to throw an arm over her mouth to muffle the sounds she couldn’t stop making.

Every muscle in her lower half was quaking, quivering with anticipation, and he shifted his grip, supporting her with just the one hand so he could slide two fingers home, pressing out against her fluttering walls.

“Baby,” he groaned, coated in heat and wet, “You going to come for me, Kennedy? Squeeze my fingers?” Thrusting into her, he sucked her clit in quick little pulls.

Her teeth sank into the flesh of her forearm as Kennedy’s body did exactly that. She’d never had such a powerful orgasm before. One which made her muscles shake and a muffled, keening wail fall from her lips. Her womb clenched so hard she cried out at the force. Tears spilled down her temples to wet her hair as she sobbed little-gasping breaths. Everything faded down to the sensations wracking her body.

Minutes later, she opened her eyes, finding herself wrapped in Steven’s arms, cradled against him, and shaking.

“Shh, easy. I got you, baby.” He kissed the crown of her head.

Taking a deep breath, one that shuddered a little, Kennedy smiled sighing out, “That was… incredible.”

Chuckling softly, Steve rolled her beneath him. “Oh, really? Do tell.”

“And inflate your ego, _Captain_? I don’t think so.” But she said it with a smile as she stroked her hands over his chest. Leaning up, she pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his heart, flicking her tongue out to taste him.

His skin glowed in the amber light, shone slightly with sweat.

She crooned against him, “You’re overdressed, soldier.”

***

If the words _hot damn_ happened to pass through his mind, Steve couldn’t fault himself but made darn sure they didn’t leave his lips while silently thanked the almighty for his sweet Kennedy. Her hands had already dropped to his belt, but he sat back and took over, letting his eyes wander the wonderland that was Kennedy Marie Jones.

The hickey he’d left was a vivid purple and red. He really wanted to leave a second one on her throat, high up by her tattoo, a mark of his possession for the whole world to see. But… maybe not here in her parent's home.

The Canadians seemed a laid-back sort. Still, he doubted Jonas would take kindly to Steve defiling his daughter on the floor in the study should he learn about it.

Gazing down on his woman, he had to smile. How could anyone have called her, in essence, _fat_? No, she wasn’t sleek and fit like Nat, but she sure as hell wasn’t fat.

She had muscle in her thighs and ass from years of horses and skating. She walked everywhere as far as he could tell and was relatively toned. Her belly was soft, not flabby but soft, something he thought was adorable. Her hips curved gently into a slender waist. Beautiful breasts with there smattering of freckles were high and firm and round. They were a generous handful, and he had big hands. More smooth muscles banded her arms, there, but not heavily defined. She was the perfect embodiment of what a _woman_ should be, at least in his eyes. She was the picture of soft to his hard, of gentleness to his strength, of home to the hell he often walked. She was beautiful, and in the firelight she was radiant.

“Kennedy.” He stopped abruptly, hands coming to rest on either side of her head as he leaned over her.

“Steven?” she whispered, her heart kicking and racing as she gazed up at him in wonder.

“Kennedy, there’s no maybe for me. I… I love you.” He’d been falling for her since the first. He may have even tumbled down the slope the day he’d stolen her sucker. “I think I’ve been in love with you for some time.”

Green eyes, vivid, earnest, vulnerable, softened with her smile. “It’s why I would have walked away if things had turned out different. Because, I love you too, Steven. Enough to break my own heart if it was what was best for you. I think… no, I know that’s why I reacted so poorly when I found out who you were. I was already so deep, so far gone, it hurt so much to think you’d led me on.” She gently cupped his cheek. “How was I ever to measure up as good enough for someone like you?”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of what’s best for me. I want you, Doc. Just you. I like _just you_ , just fine.” He kissed her then, a soft, tender brushing of lips which reminded him so much of their first his breath caught. His lips slanted, heat burning through his body at the drag of her fingers down his skin.

She moaned into his mouth, making him frantic, wild for her.

Somehow, without breaking the kiss, he got his jeans down his legs.

She squeaked a little-shocked noise when she managed to cast a glimpse downward, taking in the rest of him. “Super-soldier indeed…”Kennedy murmured. “Hung like a horse has taken on a whole new meaning.”

Her face turned red with the remark, but he only chuckled, leading her teasing hand, the one which had been tracing his ribs, to his cock. “How long’s it been, Doc?” he asked, both out of curiosity and the desire not to hurt her.

“Five years,” she whispered, mouth falling a little open when she traced her fingers over the skin and head of his erection.

“Five?!” He didn’t mean it to sound so shocked but _damn_. Although, he’d once gone seventy years so who was he to judge.

She flinched, but his lips found the spot on her throat that was sensitive, softening his unintended accusation. Tilting her head, Kennedy continued to torment him with her tender touch. “Not since… Carl, at University. S’okay though. I’m clean and on something. Nothing worse than random cycles when you spend days or weeks in the lab.”

He, too, knew he was clean. The serum worked to keep him healthy including a range of STD’s, which, _wow_ , had been a mortifying conversation to have with, of all people, Natasha. Things sure had gotten weirder since his time. But Kennedy’s words meant he wasn’t going to have to scrounge through his jeans.

Wishful thinking? Hell yeah! He’d come prepared to get his girl back, no matter what that took. “I can…” What was it Sam called it? “Glove up if you want me to.”

She snickered softly and shook her head. “It’s fine. I trust you, Steven.”

And he could see that she meant so much more than just he meant what he’d said. She trusted him to take care of her if something did happen.

He hadn’t really thought about kids before. Most of the women he’d known were in the same line of work, and he doubted whether they’d have wanted to give up their careers. Peggy had, but, again, different era. With Kennedy, he knew, someday she’d look at him with those emerald eyes and say five words.

_Steven, I want a baby._

The whole idea of it hit him so hard, he was left breathless.

_Home_. She was his home.

Her hand stroked him a little firmer causing his mind to kick back in from the happy place it had disappeared to.

Shifting back between her thighs, Steve took her hands in his, stretching them above her head slowly, careful in case the bandaged wound of her shoulder pained her. “Going to go slow, baby. Treat you right. You’re going to feel so good. This soldier’s going to show you what it means to be with someone on the serum.”

“Ranch life starts early, Steven. Just so you know,” she warned him, eyes bright.

“How early we talkin’, doll face?” He smirked, eyeing the clock on the mantel.

“Six, sometimes five. When you come home, you help out, which includes dawn wakeup calls.”

The clock read midnight. He turned the smile down to her. “Guess we’ll have to catch a nap later then.”

It was the witching hour.

She had most certainly bewitched him. She shifted beneath him, and Steve moaned at the slide of silky thighs over his hips.

Taking himself in hand, he rubbed his head through warm, wet folds, coating himself in the essence of Kennedy.

She whimpered every time he caught her bundle of nerves, setting him smirking.

“You ready for this, Kennedy?”

She twisted her wrists in his grasp, but his hold was unbreakable and took her legs to his waist instead. “Less talk, more action, soldier.”

Chuckling, Steve murmured, “Yes ma’am.” Pressing his hips forwards, he groaned for she was scorching hot and so tight.

“God! Steven!” Kennedy gasped, arching beneath him. “Fuck!” she squealed when he pressed deeper, and her body gave to the intrusion.

Releasing her hands, they immediately flew to his back, nails finding purchase in his shoulders, but the pain only increased his pleasure. He reached for her thigh, sliding it higher so he could sink deeper. “Breathe, doll face. You feel so good, baby, but you’re so tight. Don’t fight me, sweetheart.” His mouth was pressed to her ear.

She moaned at the sensual nature of his words. “Kiss me,” she groaned when his hips surged. “Kiss me and make me yours.”

He did so, tenderly. Beautiful, gentle, and soft. When he finally slipped home, when his hips rested against hers, she breathed out a stuttering breath of wonder, and he smiled against her lips.

“Steven…” she moaned

“I got you, baby,” he whispered. Fully seated, he had to fight his racing heart for he’d never felt anything so perfect before.

She fit like a tight glove and throbbed gently around him.

“Tell me when.”

Clenching her fingers into his back, Kennedy whimpered giving a small nod to grant consent for she had no voice left. Then he drew back, a slow, slick glide through her folds and she gasped for air.

For the first time since he’d changed, become Cap, Steve felt the hitch of breath which reminded him of when he used to have an asthma attack.

She left him breathless.

It was the most exquisite sensation, her fluttering sheath, gripping thighs, and scratching nails. “Kennedy…” he whispered, overcome as he pressed slowly back in.

***

She’d never seen such a beautiful sight as the way the firelight played over his flexing muscle and glistening skin.

His teeth had caught at his lip, his cheeks had flushed, and his blue eyes gleamed like cobalt behind heavy lids. When his length delved deep, pressed against her core, she arched back in rapture and tightened her hands. “Oh, oh wow.”

“Yeah, baby? You like that?” he breathed against her cheek as he tightened his grip on her thigh, picking up his pace. “Does it feel good, doll face?”

“If I… oh… tell you, you’re… the best I’ve …ever had, will it… give you a swelled head?” she managed to gasp out, moaning when something swelled. “Oh my god, _Steven_!”

He chuckled and rocked into her a little harder. Plunging deep, she felt him bottom out and hissed at how good it was. She could feel her walls growing tighter, the heat of him scorching hot inside her as he sped up the power of his hips.

Every plunge was a searing drive of sensation, pouring pleasure through her system. He tilted her hip a little more, and his ridge dragged over her sweet spot. The spot inside no lover had ever found.

She cried out in bliss. Her nails scrabbled down his back and a keening sound spilled from her throat.

“Right there, baby? Is that the spot?”

Her eyes closed, her nose scrunching up with her frantic nod, and he shortened his thrusts to stroke over her sensitive sheath.  Her grip tightened, legs and hands, and he drew his lips over her cheek to find hers. Kissing her deeply, tongues twining, she felt the quiver in her muscles begin again.

“That’s it, baby. You going to come for me, Kennedy? Come on my cock?”

Drawing her hands down his back, she closed them in the flexing muscles of his ass and groaned, “Fuck, Steven! Harder!”

He obliged instantly, hips slamming down, driving her deeper into the plush rug. “Jeez, doll! You’re so good, so tight. You fit me just right, baby.” Nipping at her lips, Steve whispered, “Open your eyes, doll face. Let me see those emeralds.” When she cracked them open, he gave a rumbling growl. “That’s it, come on, baby. Give it to me. Come for me, darlin’.”

The burn started low, gathered in intensity, exploded outwards in a shower of sparks which had Kennedy straining beneath him. Her breath came out a whispered _oh god_ before she was lost to the sensation of flexing walls squeezing down on the rod that was, suddenly, still inside her. It mattered little for everything clenched and milked, squeezed around him. Her body pulsed, throbbed, ached with how incredible her release had been.

“Damn, _fuck_.” Steve hissed, paused above her, he watched her gasp for breath and moan his name. Once she was sufficiently recovered, he smiled and kissed her cheek. “Will you do something for me, Kennedy?”

“What?” she asked, a little breathless.

“Show me your skills, baby. I want to watch you ride.” Without waiting for her consent, Steve flipped their positions.

Finding herself sprawled over his broad chest, the thick length of steel still wedged within her, Kennedy gasped softly in surprise. “Steven, I…” She bit her lip self-consciously.

He gently cupped her cheek. “You’re perfect, Kennedy. Show me what my Canadian cowgirl can do.”

_Confidence_. He seemed to radiate both it and bravery, and she wondered if it came with being _the Captain America_. But it was the love in his eyes, the way he looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world which had her sitting up and bracing her hands on his chest. “You sure you can handle me, soldier? Wouldn’t want to wear you out.”

His smile was so wide it nearly split his face. “You’d have to ride me pretty hard to wear me out, Doc.”

She shivered when he said it. Pulling her knees into his hips, she smiled wickedly. “Oh, honey, I’ve been riding all my life.” Slowly, she undulated her hips, making him groan.

Large hands landed on her thighs, and he was soon helping lift and lower her as he gasped, “Sweet Jesus!”

She rocked and rolled her hips, sliding up and down his shaft in delightful ways. Her nails bit and scratched at his chest while he let his hands walk the length of her body. Gleaming gold in the firelight, he stroked them over her, up her ribcage, and cupped her breasts. Kennedy moaned when he pulled on her nipples. Her hips jerked but soon recovered their rhythm.

Smiling down at him, she leaned back to place her hands on his thighs, arching her body. The wound in her shoulder was a little uncomfortable, but the way his cock was pulling and gliding, taking her back up this heavenly roller coaster, made up for a bit of pain. “Steven!”

“Don’t stop, baby!”

Releasing her breasts, he returned his hands to her hips, helped her slam down on him. Soon the slap of flesh to flesh and heavy breathing were the only sounds to be heard as Kennedy laboured above him.

Reaching between them, her arched body making things easier, he placed his thumb on her pearl and gave it a firm circle.

“Fuck…” she moaned. The heat was building in her abdomen a third time. “You keep doing that, you’re going to make me come.”

He circled the little bundle a second time. “Then come, baby. I like it when you squeeze me. Strangle my cock, doll.”

He kept going, rubbing, stroking, flicking the tiny jewel until the rhythm of rise and fall she’d established failed and she felt her heart stutter when her body exploded again. “Rogers!” she gasped, arms shaking with the bone shattering climax.

In a show of incredible strength, he sat up, wrapped her in his arms, and kissed her hard. Here, now was the roughness she expected from such a big man, such a powerful man, coming through. She’d broken a layer of the Captain’s control and smirked proudly against his lips.

“Shit, Kennedy. You’re so damn hot, baby. So fucking sexy. Can you take more, doll?” He kissed her all over the unbruised portions of her face between every few words while his big hands were dragging, stroking, and squeezing everywhere. Sweat beaded on his brow, on his skin. It trickled down his temple.

She knew it was matting the hair around her face, as well but didn't care. “What else you got, Cap?”

His eyes gleamed with challenge. “Gonna make you come so damn hard, baby.”

Nipping his lip, she whispered, “Promises, promises, Captain.” It made her gasp when, he just manhandled her like she weighed nothing, finding herself turned to her hands and knees.

He was sliding his big cock back through her folds before she’d really even registered the fact that he’d left, and then his hips slammed forwards, and she gasped. His body draped over her back, arms wrapping tight around her. He drew her up and off her injured arm, onto her knees and over his thighs, spread out with his mouth against her ear.

“Don’t go throwin’ out the challenges, doll face, if you’re not prepared to accept the consequences.” He bit her ear gently, beginning to thrust, full, hard, plunges of his cock into her soaked sheath. “You love this don’t you, Doc? You love my cock inside you?”

“Yes!” she gasped when his hand closed over her breast.

“You should see yourself, baby. All flushed and glowing. You’re fucking gorgeous, Kennedy.” He thrust up with every third word, driving into her hard and fast, taking her back to the edge of orgasm so fast. Squeezing her breast, he sucked at the skin beneath her ear while his other hand drifted lower. “Who do you belong to?”

“You!” She thrust her hand back to grab a handful of his hair, holding his mouth to her throat. The other followed the glide of his hand towards her core.

“Who?” He closed his teeth on her shoulder gently.

“You, Captain!” she groaned out. Her reward was three hard thrusts and his fingers delving between her folds.

“Good girl,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m so close, baby. So close.”

“Me too,” she panted as his fingers played with her and his cock took on a bruising pace. “Oh god! I’m going to come so hard!” Her words drove him into a frenzy.

“Yeah? You going to come for me again? I like it when you do. You’re so fucking tight, Kennedy. You’re a damn treasure. Anyone who said otherwise was a fat-heat!”  

Her body arched, stiffened, and clamped down on his, making him moaned behind her.

She inhaled deeply, and he turned her face to his, sealing his mouth over hers, cutting off the scream she was about to let loose. She shook with the intensity. Everything inside her was twitching, burning, clamping down in mind-blowing release over the rapid swelling of his cock, then the hot jets of seed filled her, and she moaned for it set off little aftershocks of spasm which she didn’t even know were possible. Behind her, plastered to her spine, she could feel him quake, his muscles shaking with his pleasure as his hot breath washed over her cheek.

“That’s it…” she sighed moments later when she could find her voice.

“What’s it, sweetheart?” Steve murmured, kissing her cheek. Slowly he pulled away, cock still thick and semi-hard.

“You’ve ruined me for anyone else.” She’d never ever had sex like that in her life.

Chuckling, he turned her to face him and tenderly kissed her swollen lips. “Guess you’ll just have to keep me around then.”

Kennedy threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly, sliding her tongue over his bottom lip when his hands tightened on her waist.

He took them over backwards to the rug, and she landed on him with a quiet _umph_.

“Not sure what’s harder. You or the floor.”

“Kiss me like that again, and I guarantee it will be me.” Steve chuckled. But when he looked down his body, he groaned for Kennedy was rising over him a second time.

She traced her fingers up his wet cock. “Just how many times do you have to come, Steven, before this relaxes?” How quick was his recovery time? Did he even get entirely soft? She had a theory but wondered if he’d let her experiment with him.

Her fingers skimmed around the head and he was almost instantly fully erect. “Kennedy...” He hissed softly when her wet folds were sliding along his length again. “You’re hurt, baby.”

“I’m fine. How many times, Steven?” she asked softly, a sultry smile on her lips when his eyes darkened, and his head fell back, arching his throat. Leaning over, her breasts pressed flush to his chest as she closed her lips on his Adam’s apple.

“Vixen!” he groaned.

“This is just me being nice, Captain. Don’t you want me to be nice?” She ground her hips down, and he whimpered. It made her grin wildly.

“Fuck! What happened to my shy girl?”

She smiled when he looked up at her in wonder. Sitting back, continuing to undulate against his loins, she gave a smug shrug of her shoulder. “She met you. You give me confidence, Steven. You make me feel beautiful and sexy. I had forgotten what it was like.”

Latching his hands to her hips, he asked, “What, what was like, Doc?”

“What making love felt like. I enjoy sex, and I had forgotten because.... because he’d made it all about him. What he wanted. What he liked. How I consistently failed to please him. But he never pleased me either. I was so wrapped up in the shit in my head, I’d forgotten how good this felt.”

He lifted her up and impaled her slowly down. “It’s always going to be about you first, Kennedy. My mama raised me to be a gentleman, after all.”

She smiled even though every part of her was humming with pleasure so potent she wanted to scream her ecstasy to the ceiling. “With that filthy mouth? You ain’t no gentleman, Rogers.”

He chuckled and squeezed her ass. “You like it.”

“Yes, I do.” Throwing her head back, she pressed her palm to his abs, _dear lord those abs_ , and began to rise and fall above him again. “How many times, Cap?” She felt him surge up and gasped through her grin.

“Don’t know, baby. No one’s ever asked before, and I’ve never thought to test it.”

Biting her lip, Kennedy peered down at him from behind heavy lids. “Being as I’m a scientist studying the effects of the serum on the body, might I pose a hypothesis, Captain Rogers?” She said hypothesis and his hips bucked. “Why, Captain? Have you got a little science jargon kink in there along with that filthy mouth?”

“Only with you, Doc.” He smirked right back. “Can’t say I’ve ever had my cock twitch listenin’ to Tony or Bruce talk science.”

His comment made her chuckle. “And you like to play the soldier card, don’t you.... _Captain_?”

He groaned and bucked his hips up. “Why did I ever think you were a _nice_ girl?”

“Beats me,” she murmured, tracing her nails over his abdomen.

“You’re a minx! Jeez, doll. You’re killing me.”

Laughing softly, Kennedy squeezed her internal muscles, watching his mouth fall open. “Can I run an experiment with you, Captain Rogers?”

“What’s it entail, doll face?” He was going to say yes, the excited gleam in his eyes made that abundantly clear, but he wanted to hear her say it.

It seemed the more she talked, the friskier he got out. “How many times can I make you climax before you finally lose your erection, Captain? I purpose it will take at least an hour to wear you out.” She stated it clinically just to feel the surge of his hips.

Her fingers flexed, and he groaned. “Aren’t you the one who said we had to be up early?”

“Can’t leave my man only partially satisfied.”

He flipped her to her back so quickly it knocked the breath from her lungs. “Say that again,” he demanded.

She was going to tease him, but a strong slam of his hips and the fire in his eyes warned against it. “My man.”

“Fuck, doll face. Just fuck! I love you so goddamned much already, and then you go and say that.” His hips surged and bucked, and he took her hard and fast, driving her into nerve screaming release which clamped tight around him. “Damn, Kennedy. You sure _you_ can keep up, Doc?”

Panting, trying desperately to take a breath that wasn’t filled with whatever aftershave it was he used, the one which made her head spin with how good he smelled, Kennedy thrust her hands into his hair. “Five years, Steven. A five-year dry spell and I’m coming to see I’ve been _sorely_ misinformed in the quality of my sex life before now.”

He smiled a look so wicked, she felt a skitter of trepidation travel her spine. “Then let’s test this theory, Doc.”

***

Hours later when Steve managed to look up at the clock on the mantle, he laughed softly. “Three hours. That’s got to be a record.” They were both a sweaty, exhausted mess. He was fairly sure they would need to burn the rug as it would likely never come clean, but that had been one of the most memorable experiences of his entire life.

“Definitely.” Kennedy smiled tiredly back. “Going to sleep right here.”

“Don’t think that’s a very good idea, doll,” he said, pressing his lips to the side of her throat.

“My god, Steven. If you tell me you can go another round, it may just kill me. At one point I swear it was just one long, never-ending orgasm.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure you’ve rung me dry, love.” He could actively feel his lower abdominals cramp. “But I think your dad may have something to say about me defiling his daughter in the study if he should walk in on us in the morning.”

“Defiling, was it? Mmmm,” she hummed and stretched. “We definitely defiled the rug. How the heck am I going to explain this to my mother?”

It was all matted, not at all sanitary anymore and the room itself smelled of sex and exertion. The fire at least had kept the room dry enough, so condensation hadn’t gathered on the windows, but it felt stuffy to him.

Groaning, Kennedy sat up, pressing a hand to her back. “I ached in all the best places. Between you, skating, and getting blown up, I’m not sure I can walk.”

Reaching for the silky white nighty, Steve sat up and drew it down over Kennedy’s head. When it cleared her face, he leaned in, kissing her tenderly on her plump, slightly bruised lips. “Let me, doll.” He helped her thread her arms through the holes, letting it fall around her hips.

She was all hazy eyes and wild hair, and he was fairly certain she’d have bruises on her hips and butt that had nothing to do with her flight through the air.

He was waffling between guilt and pride but was leaning towards pride.

Helping her into her robe, he got her up and sat her on the edge of the sofa before dragging his clothing back up his legs. Her underwear went in his pocket as he tugged his shirt on. Looking from the rug to the window, he glanced at Kennedy when she giggled.

“Probably the best for now. There’s a hedge out there we can toss it behind. I’ll... make something up as to why it’s suddenly missing. Maybe I can bribe Henry into making it vanish. He’s good with that.”

Chuckling, Steve rolled the small area rug up and took it to the window. Shoving it up, he popped out the screen, dropping the evidence outside before replacing it all as good as before. When he turned back, Kennedy had stumbled her way to the mantel, and he was again struck with guilt.

“You okay, Doc?” He was quick back to her side.

She smiled when he wrapped an arm around her middle. “Fine. Matt taught me a trick when we were younger, and I caught him smoking one of dad’s cigars.”

On the mantle, her mother already decorating here and there for Christmas was a bundle of cinnamon sticks. Plucking one from the bunch, she broke a piece off and crouched, groaning a little, to tuck it near a warm bit of coals. They’d fed the fire once between bouts when the room grew dark, but the fire had again burned down to the soft glow of embers.

“Too close and it smells of burning cinnamon, but, if you can get it to warm....” It took a few moments, but soon the rich scent of warm spices was wafting into the room.

“Clever,” Steve smirked, kissing her cheek before scooping her up and heading for the door.

Wrapping her arm around his broad shoulders, she kissed his cheek. “It gives me a little thrill when you do that.”

“Do what, Doc?” He nodded toward the door which she unlocked and pulled open.

“Just... move me like I weigh nothing.”

Grinning, he headed through the house toward a different set of stairs. “If I can catch the force of Bucky’s fist and repel it you really aren’t an issue, Kennedy.” Quietly, against her ear, he murmured, “And don’t go gettin’ in your head, baby. You’re one gorgeous dame. You're not heavy, to begin with.”

“I’ll try, Steven. Just... be patient with me. I’ve listened to that voice for a lot of years,” she whispered back.

They fell silent as they made their way past the bedrooms. Steve faltered at one point, but it was only for a moment before they reached her room. Once there, he set her by the washroom door, smiling at her blush.

When the door closed, he turned to frown at her dresser. Sitting on it was his black go bag. It made him wonder just who had moved his gear. Henry? More likely it was Bucky, especially with the soft comment only he would hear which had come from his best friend’s room.

_About damn time, some of us are trying to sleep. And jeez, Steve. Three hours? Really? Give the girl a break!_

Evidently, they had not been as quiet as he’d thought. Likely it was only Bucky with his enhanced hearing who’d overheard anything. Hopefully. He cringed slightly but wasn’t about to mention it to Kennedy.

When she returned, looking wiped, he stripped her clothing from her a second time, pulling one of his shirts down over her head instead before urging her into bed. She didn’t protest and went willingly to fall face down over it.

Chuckling, he took his turn in her bathroom, cleaned up and changed shorts, returning to find her still sprawled over the comforter.  

“You can’t sleep like that, Kennedy. You’ll freeze.” The fire in her room had long gone out making it chilly.

When she made no sign she’d heard him, Steve simply moved her. She smiled in her sleep as he tucked her in, crawling in with her.

He doubted he should be in her bed, really, but there was nowhere else he’d rather be and set an internal alarm for two hours from now. He’d let her sleep, make an excuse, and help out in her place. He’d rope Bucky into it, too, and if the others were up, drag them along as well.  


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Fluff, Stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one)

## Chapter Eleven

[](https://tilltheendwilliwrite.tumblr.com/post/161957340453/canadian-girl)

* * *

Steve woke those two hours later to an empty bed and sat bolt upright.

She was gone, his shirt was laid over the end of the bed, and he was out of it in a flash. If she was running anyway, had left him after last night, he was going to find her and... and... and... he couldn’t think of anything past the fear.

Jerking on clean clothes, he paused to listen to the quiet before sliding silently out of her room and down the hall, all the while wondering how she’d gotten out of the bed without him waking up.

At the bottom of the stairs, he smelled coffee first, then the heavenly scent of cinnamon buns, a personal weakness, and headed for the bright lights of the kitchen.

Kennedy’s redheaded mother, standing at the counter, startled when she saw him. “Oh! Steven! You gave me as big a fright as Bucky did this morning. You two need to make a little noise when you move, or I'm gonna get you both a dang bell.”

The tone was mildly scolding, but her smile was friendly. The threat of a bell, however, made him chuckle. “Sorry about that, Mary.” His eyes quickly scanned the room. “Kennedy up yet?”

Her smile turned wicked. “As you spent last night in her bed, I’d imagine you know she is.”

He could feel the blush darkened his cheeks and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I…” He had no idea what to say to the mother of the woman he was sleeping with.

“Kennedy’s a grown woman, Steven. What she chooses to do and with whom is her choice, but I tell you this,” she placed the cup on the counter, and rounded the island to walk towards him, “If she ever comes home in tears over you again, Captain America, serum enhanced or not, I will hunt you down so damn fast and return her pain tenfold! You get me, Cap?”

She was nearly a foot shorter than him and a good sixty pounds lighter, but he had a moment of concern. She looked like she could pull it off in that instant.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She smiled sweetly. “Coffee?”

Damn. “Black is great. I see where Kennedy gets her spunk from as well as her looks.”

“You flatter me, Steven.” She batted her hand his way and went to get him coffee.

“Mary?”

“Yes, Steven?” She looked up at him and smiled.

“I... really love her,” he murmured.

Her smile softened. “I know you do, sweety. That’s why when Jonas asks why the rug in the study is missing and why it smells so strongly of cinnamon, I’m going to tell him a spark caught the rug, burned a nasty hole, and I had to warm the cinnamon to get rid of the smell.”

He blushed a bit harder and could tell she was biting back laughter as she handed him the travel mug.

“Kennedy’s in the paddock and Bucky’s out there with her.” She waved toward the window.

He moved so he could see out it.

Bucky was leaning against the railing and Kennedy was up on Kyle.

It made him frown. “She should be recovering.”

Mary snorted behind him.

His ears warmed with how hard he blushed.

Managing to hold in the laughter, Mary said, “She once was part of a twenty-four-hour ride. Every four hours they switched off horses. When she finished, stubborn girl that she was, she couldn’t even stand up, but the ride was something she did to raise money and awareness for multiple sclerosis. Her legs seized up on her, and she cried when I helped her into the bath, but, the next morning I looked out the window at five a.m, and she’s on Kyle’s back, taking him through his paces. There were tears in her eyes, but she loves that horse. She rides every day when she’s home. Rain, shine, or snow. Long as it’s not dangerous for him, that’s where you’ll find her.”

“She could board him at the barns in the park. She ever thought about it?” Steven wondered.

“He’d distract her or she’d feel she was neglecting him. She’s said so herself. Here he gets regular use, and she loves on him when she visits.”

Sipping from the cup, his heart much settled, he hummed appreciatively. “Wow. Good coffee.”

Chuckling, she handed him a warm cinnamon bun on a napkin. “Tim Hortons.”

“She tell you about that?” he smirked at Mary.

“She’s told me everything. I know what it’s like to live in the spotlight. A much smaller one mind you, but still a spotlight. It was easier for me to relate.” She glanced at the window. “She’s got him warmed up. You should go watch.” The timer on the stove dinged, and she turned back to it. “And Steven? Thank you.”

“For what, Mary?” he asked, shoving his feet into his boots and grabbing his jacket.

“Carl was a bastard. He fucked with Kenny something awful. She glowed this morning, and when I said she looked beautiful, she smiled. My daughter hasn’t just accepted a compliment in six and a half years.” Tears welled, but she fought them back, striding across the room instead so she could hug him. “Thank you.”

Stunned, he stood a little stiffly before closing his arms around her back. “She did make mention you were huggers.”

“Get used to it, boy. You’re ours now.” She patted his cheek. “Don’t look so surprised. Kennedy’s part of your family which means you’ve become part of ours. All of your team, even... Stark.”

There was a shadow of concern in her eyes, and Steve took and squeezed her hand. “He’s not how you think he is. And I’ll watch over Kennedy.”

She nodded as he pulled on his coat before taking coffee and sweet smelling bun out the door with him.

The cold hit him in the face, but there was no wind, and he was grateful. He didn’t care what Kennedy said. This was fudging cold.

Striding through the snow, he watched her ride with confidence around the ring, the horse seeming almost to dance beneath her when he did a quick change of feet. Her legs were encased in tight pants and knee-high boots. A different puffy coat - This one black - protected her torso. Gloves, hat, and scarf closed out the rest of the cold.

Leaning on the railing beside Bucky, he bit into the cinnamon bun, listening to the crunch of snow beneath Kyle’s feet as he smirked at his best friend’s scowl. “What?”

“We’re you trying to break some record, punk?” Bucky rolled his eyes upwards and shook his head.

“She proposed a hypothesis. I was just a willing participant in her experiment.”

Bucky stole a chunk out of his cinnamon bun. “You’re a shit. A lucky shit, but still a shit.”

“Were we really that loud?” Steve asked quietly.

Bucky shook his head. “Nah, pal. You know I’m just more sensitive to noise. Wanda may have picked up on a few wildly swinging emotions, but she ain't going to say nothing.”

Relieved, Steve turned his eyes back to Kennedy. “What’s she doing?”

Bucky shrugged. “She called it dressage.”

“He looks like he’s dancing.” Steve watched her have the horse prance in place, twirl in a strange hopping rhythm, before she sent him sideways, feet crossing like ‘X’s. With his curved neck and pricked ears, Kyle looked quite elegant.

Bringing the horse to a halt, Kennedy threw the reins up his neck and gave him double pats. “Good job.” Looking up, she smiled his way. “Awake I see.”

“I am. Why are you?”

She faltered at the tone and Bucky punched him in the shoulder. With the metal hand.

“Ow! Damn it, Bucky!”

“Ignore him, doll. He’s grumpy pre-coffee.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’m going to get one of Mary’s cinnamon buns.” Glaring at Steve, he muttered, “She’s a fucking treasure. Any woman who can keep up with one of us for three hours is a damn miracle. Be nice, dumbass.”

Frowning, Steve looked back at Kennedy and sighed.

She looked a little less bright, and he mentally kicked himself. The others were used to him barking orders and questions. She was not part of his team.

He couldn’t treat her like she was.

He was quick to shove the napkin in his pocket, setting the travel mug on the ground, before clearing the fence. Striding towards her, he slowed to a stop at her knee and laid his hand on it. “You have to be tender, Doc. I just don’t want you to overdo it.”

Her smile returned, and she leaned down. “I thought a different kind of riding might loosen some of my muscles.” She grinned and drew him up by his jacket to kiss him good morning.

“Damn, woman.” He growled against her lips. Pulling back, he patted Kyle’s damp shoulder. “That’s some pretty fancy footwork he was doing. Thought you were a cowgirl, doll?

“I’m that, too. Kyle was a bit clumsy as a three-year-old. The dressage helped his balance. Now he’s one of the better cutting horses on the ranch.”

“Cutting?” Steve asked.

Smirking, Kennedy backed Kyle away. “You pretty quick, Cap?” She had a weird look on her face.

“Yeah. You know I am.”

“I’m assuming you’re familiar with tag.”

“Yeah...” He really didn’t like the look on her face.

“Be a lamb, Steven, and run past me to the other end of the arena.” She turned Kyle toward him, shifting her seat. The horse’s ears pricked and he quivered gently in anticipation.

“Alright...” He started to jog, and the horse turned with him. When he stopped so did Kyle. Turning the other way, so did the horse. “I see how it is.”

“Give us your best shot, Cap!” She laughed and grabbed a handful of mane.

***

“I can’t believe you were bested by a horse!” Bucky fairly roared with laughter as Steve glared at him.

“Hey! It’s not as easy as it looks, jerk!” Steve snapped.

“I can’t believe you fell off, Kenny,” Matt snickered behind his cup of coffee.

“Wrong tack, buddy. I’d like to see you stay on a cutting horse in dressage gear.” She huffed at him and shift the ice higher up her hip. Falling off with speed onto the frozen ground on a hip which already bore a few tender bruises had not been fun.

Handing her a cup of coffee, Steve rested against the arm of her chair. “You okay there, Kennedy?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah. Not my first rodeo.” She shrugged.

“That’s for sure. You remember the time you got it in your head that you were going to be a bull rider and signed up for the mutton busting?” Matt smirked at Bucky while closing an invisible hand over Kennedy’s mouth. “The rig slipped as she came out of the chute and instead of letting go, she rode the damn sheep upside down!”

Grabbing for anything in reach, she settled on a nice heavy book, flinging it at his head. It floated down to the coffee table but broke his focus long enough that he let go of her mouth. “I was six, you moron! And if you ever do that again, I swear I will put a pinch of gunpowder in your coffee cup and set it off!”

“Doll?” Steve asked concerned.

Waving her hand at Matt, she muttered, “Dumbass closed my mouth.”

“We both know you wouldn’t do that, Kenny.” He dismissed her with a shrug.

“No, but I have no qualms about dyeing your hair while you're sleeping.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“No, no, no! You promised not to do that again after Jessie!” Matt cried.

“What are you two hooligans yapping on about?” Jonas huffed, striding in the door to take a seat beside Matt.

“He’s a jerk!”

“She threatened to dye my hair!”

“He sealed my lips and told the mutton busting story!”

Steve took one look at Bucky, and they both burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, doll face! But this is just....” He gasped for air. “You’re so clearly related!”

A little embarrassed by how far they’d gotten out of hand, she snickered once at the ridiculousness. “Siblings.” Shaking her head, she sipped her coffee while leaned into the ice pack.

Sighing, refusing to get involved, even if he was their father, Jonas looked at the floor before the fireplace where the thick rug sat. “Hey? Does anyone know what happened to the rug in my study?”

Steve, avoiding looking at Bucky or Kennedy, quickly stood up. “Let me top that up for you, doll.” He left with her cup spilling coffee over the edge.

***

“Big family dinner tonight,” Mary said to Tony when the man walked in the kitchen. She could hear the shouting from the living room and wasn’t leaving until it calmed down. Plus she was feeding way more people than normal with much bigger appetites and needed to keep an eye on all the skillets she had cooking. “You’re welcome to stay.”

Tony shook his head. “Some of us should get back. Can’t have all of us away at the same time or the world might just go to hell.”

Pouring him a cup of coffee, Mary passed it to him across the counter. “You are welcome, Tony. We may all be a bit… stiff with you for a while but… I trust Steven to know what he’s about when he says you aren’t as we think you are.”

Sighing softly, Tony slid onto one of the barstools at the island. “Faith comes pretty naturally to you people, doesn’t it?”

“You talking the Jones’s or Canadians in general?” she chuckled softly, flipping the pancakes. “I can’t speak for all of this country, have, in fact, seen some pretty terrible things in recent years,” she shook her head sadly, “But this family likes to give people the benefit of the doubt. Take Danny for example.” Her hand shook as she reached for her cup of coffee before it clenched around the handle.

Tony eyed her carefully.

“That boy was constantly in trouble. If it wasn’t drugs, it was gambling. He always needed money and often ended up on our doorstep, coming begging the boys or Kenny or Jonas to help him out. Swear up and down it was the last time...” Sighing, she thrust her hand through her hair while wiping viciously at the tears that fell from her eyes with the other. “Guess this really was the very last time. What in the world am I going to tell Joan?”

“Nothing,” Tony got up and rounded the island to place a hand on her shoulder. “You tell her nothing. We’ll take care of it. Make it clear he got mixed up in something along the lines of his previous entanglements. They’ll never have to know what he tried to do to Kennedy.”

“You’d do that?”

Tony turned to see Steve and Jonas standing in the doorway. “Huh. She’s right, Cap. You could use a bell.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but it was Jonas who stepped forward. “I’ve been wracking my brain trying to find a way to break this news to Joan. She’s… fragile with her MS and Daniel has his hands full just keeping her healthy. It would destroy them both to find out Danny had…” he cleared his throat, “Done what he did. But we can’t just leave ‘em to think one day their son will turn up when we all know… he won’t.”

“Then it’s best if you leave this to us. We can see they get notified properly.” Tony nodded to Jonas before looking to Steve. “Fury’s on his way.”

“What? Why?” Steve asked.

“He has an offer for Jonas here,” Tony smirked a little grin before patting Mary’s shoulder. “Bunch of us are going to head back. Figured you’d want to stay till Kennedy was ready to leave, so you’re off the docket, Cap. Consider yourself on leave. You and Barnes. You both could use some downtime.”

“What about me?”

They all jolted, turning to see Natasha leaning against the wall.

“What about you?” Tony huffed. “How long you been lurking?”

“I do not lurk!” Nat scoffed, sauntering towards the coffee pot.

“She can stay,” Steve smirked. “If she wants to and it’s alright with Jonas to have a few extra hands around.”

“Could actually use the help. CFR’s on up in Edmonton. Got a few bulls and a few broncs which need transport north for the rodeo. They’re on the list of top stock this year. With Henry heading south and Jesse not wanting to get too far from May and the baby, I’m shorthanded.”

“Can’t say I know anything about livestock, but I’ll be happy to hang out with Kennedy while you put those two to work.” Nat winked at Steve and smiled brightly until both Jonas and Mary laughed.

“If you think Kennedy will be left out, you’re in for a shock. Rodeo is in her blood. Why, if she could swing it, she’d be up competing on Swiftfoot in the barrel racing.” Mary pulled open the stove, dumping the newest batch of pancakes in the warming pan she had in the oven. Glancing from it to Steven and back, she closed the door and turned to make another batch of batter.

“Then it’s settled. Nat, Steve, and Bucky will stick around for a while. The rest of us will head back to the Tower.” Tony stated before sipping from his cup and groaning. “Bring some of this back with you.” He pointed at the mug.

Jonas sidled up to his wife and kissed her cheek. “You looking to feed an army, woman?”

“They’re growing boys, Jonas, and super soldiers as well. You know they need to eat more.” She rolled her eyes at him and glanced at Steven who was shaking his head.

“Ma’am, you do realize I’m nearly twice your age,” Steve smirked a little grin.

“And yet you don’t look a day over thirty-five. Whatever is your secret?” she quipped, making him laugh.

Chuckling, Jonas kissed her cheek a second time. “Woman, you're nothing but trouble.”

“That’s why you married me,” she teased.

“Hey, do you know what happened to the rug in my study?” he asked.

Biting her lip, Mary did her best not to laugh when Steven swiftly exited the room. “You know, it was the craziest thing…”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing, mild violence, implied abusive former relationship, stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one)  
> A/N: For those who are familiar with, or have been to the Canadian Finals Rodeo please note, I have taken artistic license on a few things. I am aware that not everything portrayed is correct. That's why it's called Fiction.

## Chapter Twelve

* * *

Jonas was still reeling a few days later as he watched the two Americans unload the three bulls from the trailer into the pens. Matt, Natasha, and Kennedy were dealing with the horses, but watching Steve and Bucky was both amusing and amazing.

The two men knew absolutely _nothing_ when it came to bulls. They were decent with the horses, but the bulls were completely new.

He’d warned them to watch out for the Brahma.

Cyclone had a wicked temper, wasn’t afraid to gore you through the fence if he could, and of course, he’d tried, but Bucky with that metal arm had simply grabbed the animal by the horn and given it a shove which had skidded the big bull backwards, nearly bowling him right over. Every day since Cyclone kept a wary eye on Bucky, and Bucky kept one on the bull.

Steve had had his own run-in with one of the old males, a breeding bull by the name of Jacks All In. It had charged him in the paddock, but Cap had only turned around and punched him square between the eyes. The massive black bull had toppled over stunned, gotten up, shaken himself off, and followed Steve docile as a kitten around the pen afterwards.

Thank the good lord the bull wasn’t one he needed to buck anymore, cause he doubted he would. Cap had punched the ornery right out of him.

They definitely did things differently, but, after the second day, he’d worried less about the men and more about his livestock. Long as neither of them punched one of his prize bulls, the rank ones no one could ride, they’d be okay.

They both sat a horse reasonably well. Diamond was quite taken with Bucky, and Steve had gotten up on Rocky.

He was struck with the fact that they would have used horses on occasion back during the war. After spending half a week with the two men, it was hard to remember they’d come from a different era.

Now, Natasha, on the other hand, was a little ball of fire. She really knew nothing about livestock, but Kennedy had taken her under her wing, and the two had bonded fairly quickly, much to his daughter’s surprise. It was no secret Kennedy was self-conscious, but between Steve’s constant attention – something he was so not ready to see – Bucky’s brand of teasing, and Natasha’s boundless enthusiasm, they were dragging her back out of the shell she’d hidden in.

Kennedy’s relationship with Carl stuck in his craw something fierce.

He’d known something was wrong there, had for months, hell, _years_ before she’d finally come home after graduation looking like death.

She was a completely different person.

His exuberant, outgoing Kennedy had become a shadow of herself.

They’d had to practically force her to eat, and it had taken weeks for Mary to convince her to confide in what had gone down. All Kennedy had said when she’d come home was that it was over, she had broken up with Carl. Even now he was sure there were things she’d told Mary, Mary had never told him, likely to keep him from up and killing Carl.

But now she had Steve. Captain _freaking_ America. Dear lord! If the man married his daughter, he was going to be related to a superhero! Hell, the wedding they’d have to throw because, _holy jumpin’s_ , just how many other superheroes would show up?

Shaking his head, he pushed those thoughts away as too much, too soon. He refused to giggle like a fangirl at the prospect of getting to meet _Thor_! He clenched his fists to hold back the excited ‘ _eee’_ which wanted to slip out.

Clearing his throat, he glanced around to make sure everything was still under control and turned his thoughts to Fury’s proposal.

The man had been one scary S.O.B. Between the black clothes and the eye patch, Jonas had taken one look at the man stomping his way towards the door and stiffened his spine. Yet, here too, he’d found a completely different person than what he’d expected, kind of like Stark, in that though he was gruff and a bit intimidating, Fury had a good head on his shoulders and had come offering them what seemed like an interesting idea.

With the size of the land and house, would they be interested in allowing the newly reformed SHIELD program to use their property as a base of operations. Nothing big, mind you, but a place to do wilderness training for the newer recruits, as well as possibly housing those agents who needed a place to recover after a severe traumatic event.  They’d build a small training facility away from the house and barns but wondered if the Canadians would extend their hospitality to those who were injured, allowing them a comfortable and completely normal environment to spend their recuperation. Of course, SHIELD would pay them for their cooperation, stay as much out of their way as possible, and provide needed security for their family.

Mary had always wanted to run a bed and breakfast, and the boys had both been making plans to build their own homes on the property now that they had growing families, so the big house would have been sitting empty. He’d asked to think about it, talk it over with his family, but he was leaning towards saying yes. Hydra was a threat to all of them now.

At dinner a few nights back when all the family had gathered, they’d finally convinced Joan and Daniel it was time they moved out with them. While Joan’s medical was covered, it was getting harder for her to get around and Daniel worked from home more often than not. It wouldn’t be a hardship to transform a chunk of the house into their space, and this way all of the family was safe and the worry he saw in Kennedy’s eyes would disappear.

A clang had him snapping his eyes to the boys as Bucky shut the gates and Steve closed up the trailer. Matt, Kenny, and Nat were doing the same, and he clapped his hands together, turning toward George Malin, this year’s organizer of all things CFR. “There we go.”

George opened and closed his mouth a few times before peering at Jonas. “Jones is that… are those… are they…the _Avengers_?”

“Hm?” He glanced at the boys as Steve helped Kennedy down off the fence. “Nah! That would be crazy!”

The only one who could wear a cowboy hat with any confidence was Natasha, so Steve and Bucky had stuck to ball caps. Bucky’s long sleeved shirt hid the metal of his arm, as did the leather gloves he wore, while Steve had popped on a pair of thick-framed glasses.

He’d heard his daughter whisper something about how he’d made being a nerd sexy. He’d didn’t even want to know. Just like how he didn’t want to know Steve spent every night in his daughter’s room, or how he was staying in her hotel room either. Those were things no daddy needed to know about.

“Ha… yeah… what was I thinking?” George murmured. “What would the Avengers be doing at CFR, right?”

***

Kennedy’s hair was braided into two pigtails which stuck out the bottom of her hat.

Steve gave one a gentle tug. “Pretty cute, Doc.”

She had her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans, a belt with more glitter on it than he’d ever expected to see her wear, and a pink and white gingham shirt tied beneath her breasts over her white tank top. She was the epitome of a cowgirl right down to her sexy white hat.

He wanted nothing more than to squeeze her ass in those tight jeans but resigned himself to hands on her waist. “There’s my cowgirl.”

“You call me a filly, Steven, and I’ll make you wish you hadn’t.” She smiled and batted her eyelashes while Natasha laughed.

“I would never dream of it, doll.” He grinned down at her before ducking beneath her hat and kissing her mouth.

She’d made them all go shopping, a rather… _interesting_ experience, kitting them out at a western apparel store, so they didn’t stick out quite so badly behind the chutes.

All three had gotten a crash course in rodeo 101, and with Nat’s talents, she’d blended in beautifully. It wouldn’t surprise him in the least if she got on a horse and ran the barrels.

He and Bucky were doing an adequate job of blending in, though they’d both refused the cowboy boots she’d wanted to put them in. The bottoms were just too slick to make for decent footing if something went wrong, and they had stuck to their combat boots. Both pairs were so worn down, so comfortable, Jonas didn’t think it would matter. Steel toes to work with the bulls wasn’t a farfetched story.

They’d be here most of a week, and Steve was finding the looser fit of the button down shirt he was in kind of nice. Currently, his was navy, Bucky’s was black, both had names of rodeo-related sponsors down the arms and across the shoulders. They’d been given jeans Kennedy said they were a necessity.

Apparently, if his ass didn’t say Wrangler, it would be some kind of rodeo _faux pas._

Considering Kennedy had swallowed _really_ hard when he’d walked out of the dressing room and couldn’t pull her eyes from his butt, he wasn’t averse to having his clothes changed.

“What now, doll?” he asked softly.

***

They were later in their arrival on that Tuesday evening thanks to the snow they’d come through, but the events weren’t due to start till the next day.

“Dad will want to visit with the other stock contractors and Matt while likely stay with him but…” She bit her lip and glanced at Nat and Bucky. “You guys want to hit the Roadhouse?”

The rodeo’s after-party bar would likely be up and running already for the competitors, even a day early, and they could go have some fun. It wasn’t all work when you came to these things after all.

“Roadhouse? Like the movie?” Bucky asked his grin a tad cheeky.

Laughing, Kennedy shook her head. “I guess it depends on how drunk everyone is.” As a girl, she’d adored Patrick Swayze, so she knew that title well. “It will be fun.”

“You do know we can’t get drunk, right?” Steve smirked down at her.

“But I can! I’m in!” Nat whooped and jumped up beside Jonas. “Hey, _Uncle_ Jonas, Kenny’s going to take us to the Roadhouse!” Sweeping her hat from her head, she bussed him a kiss on his cheek and slipped a panic button in his pocket. “Push that if you need us,” she whispered in his ear, before giggling and looking up at Matt. “You comin’, cuz?”

Why she’d ever thought Nat was intimidating, Kennedy couldn’t remember. Formidable. Strong willed. Tough. Those were words which fit the redhead best. It was Nat’s confidence in herself which made her intimidating, and the woman had been more than willing to help Kennedy find hers again. Natasha was just… _awesome_ , and had become an inspiration to Kenny in a lot of ways. She liked Nat, had found a friend, and the two of them were a bit more alike than she would have ever guessed. They liked to tease and joke and had quick tongues

Matt blinked down at Nat once and slowly shook his head. “My wife would kill me. I’ll stay with dad.” He glanced at Steve and nodded. “Do not let her drink tequila.”

“Hey!” Kennedy huffed.

“Do not make me remind you what happened last time.” Matt pointed his finger at her. “The words from that song suit you just fine, Kenny!”  

“Rude!” she huffed.

Nat giggled, evidently having heard the song _Tequila makes her clothes come off_ ,  but Steve and Bucky looked confused.

She was of no mind to enlighten them.

Chuckling, George tugged six passes from his bag. “Here’s your passes. Get you in where you need to go.”

Taking them from him, Nat smiled as she plucked out four, passing the rest to Matt. “Let’s go!” She jumped down and handed them off to the others.

“We’ll move this trailer and take the truck, dad. See you in the morning!” Kennedy chirped and waved, bounding around the front, climbing in to drive. The other’s followed suit and twenty minutes later, and one very cold walk through the parking lot, she was dragging them through the door of the loud and noisy dance hall. “I haven’t been here in years!”

Nat grinned at Kennedy and took her hand. “There’s a mechanical bull!”

Laughing, Kennedy nodded. “You should try it!”

Smacking her hand into Bucky’s abs, Nat snickered, “He should try it… and use the _left_ arm.”

“That would be cheatin’, doll,” Bucky smirked.

“Besides, he’d pick up so many buckle bunnies we’d need to de-fluff him to take him home,” Kennedy chuckled.

“Explain _buckle bunny_?” Bucky asked, his grin smug.

Kennedy only looked at him. “No.”

“Ah, doll. That’s mean.” He pouted.

She only narrowed her eyes. “No skanks, Bucky. That’s just… _ew_.” She shivered in disgust. “We’d have to delouse you before you could get back in the truck.”

Natasha burst out laughing and made her smile.

“Don’t worry, baby. He’s just teasing.” Steve murmured in her ear and grinned at Buck.

She smiled back at Steven.

Late one night, he’d explained a bit about Bucky. How his friend had had his share of women over the years, but Bucky wasn’t like that anymore. He may joke and laugh about it, but the nature of Bucky’s time with Hydra had ingrained in him too many scars for the man to be comfortable letting just anyone crawl between his sheets. It was why he flirted and joked so easily with her.

She was, apparently, safe because she would scoff at him and wave him off as being ridiculous. She was safe for Buck to flirt with because nothing would ever come of it, but it gave him a sense of normality, a link to his past self. She’d silently vowed, then and there, to always be Bucky’s friend, and if that meant suffering his teasing ways, so be it.

“Guess you’ll just have to buy me a beer, doll face,” Bucky smirked at her and caught the keys when she tossed them at him. “What are these for?”

“Someone’s got to be sober enough to drive. As neither of you can get drunk…” She let the ending hang and dashed into the party hand in hand with Nat.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, Buck?”

“This could be a really long night,” Bucky sighed softly, stalking after the two giggling reds.

***

It was more fun than she’d had in… Kennedy couldn’t remember how long. Being out of the lab, her project finished and not having selected a new one, gave her a freedom she hadn’t had in years. She drank, she laughed, she dragged Steven out to dance with her, both fast songs and slow. She’d taught Bucky to line dance, went through a line of shots with Natasha – a very bad idea – and managed to get Steven on the mechanical bull.

It was _cake_ for the super soldier in the hat and glasses, but _man_. His muscles had been all flexy in his arms and legs. And that ass. So hot. Of course, when he’d dismounted like he’d been bull riding all his life, landing lightly on his feet, he’d been instantly surrounded by a host of _fluffy_ women.

How shocked they were when he walked through them, up to her, and had taken her mouth in a possessive, nearly brutal, kiss. It was glorious!

She’d watched Natasha flirt her way through a line of cowboys, dance, drink, and she was nearly sure she’d heard her conversing with Bucky in Russian at one point. Not that she knew Russian, but Kennedy was pretty sure it hadn’t been English.

She’d dragged Bucky out on the dance floor too, learning his smooth, debonair included fancy footwork as well. It made her laugh when he’d dipped her, spun her, and two-stepped her around the room with ease. After, he’d had a host of dance partner’s offer, but he’d stuck to mainly her and Natasha. It wasn’t exactly difficult to feel the difference in his two hands.

A couple of times people came up and casually made mention they sure looked like Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and Natasha Romanoff.

All three just played it off like it happened all the time. After all, what would the _Avengers_ be doing at the Canadian Finals Rodeo?

It made people chuckle and continue on their way.

Now, a few hours in, she was hot, sweaty, and _damn_ did she have to pee. Seeing Natasha heading that way as well, Kennedy was quick to catch up. “Well?”

“Okay. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun when it didn’t include guns, torture, or kicking a little ass!” Nat laughed happily, linking arms with Kennedy.

Taken only a little aback, Kennedy chuckled. “You’re kind of scary when you just throw that stuff out there, you know.”

“Meh.” Nat shrugged. “You’ll get used to it.”

Snickering softly, they rounded the corner to where the washrooms were when Kennedy jerked Nat to a stop so quickly it had the former assassin reaching for the knife hidden in her belt.

“Kennedy?” Nat asked.

She knew she’d paled to a ghostly white. All because of the man striding towards them. “Carl…” Kennedy whispered.

***

Natasha was quick to step between Kennedy and Carl, the whisper from her friend one of intense fear. Old fear. A fear which still plagued the doc.

“Well, if it isn’t _Kennedy Jones_.”

The man walked like a used car salesman, all rolling gate and slick smile. His cowboy hat was tilted back so she could see the eyes which assessed first her, then flicked past to latch on Kennedy.

She could say with honesty he was handsome. He had a chiselled face, square jaw with high cheekbones, and dark eyes which seemed to see right through you. Dark brown hair curled around the edge of his hat, a black one – fitting for a villain or so Nat thought.

Raking her eyes down his form, she smirked a little. Lean, strong with it, but no match for her.

Steve would break him in half.

It wasn’t a wonder why Kennedy had been sucked in by his pretty face, but he made Natasha’s skin crawl.

Unlike Steve, she knew a bit more about Carl and what the man had done to make Kennedy pull away from the world. Women talked to other women who’d experienced similar things with a lot more freedom than they would their lover.

This was a man who needed an ass-kicking.

Natasha was more than happy to give it to him. “Walk away, Kennedy.”

“Nat…” Kennedy crossed her arms, holding her elbows, shaking with each step he took toward them.

“Oh but Kennedy and I need to catch up, don’t we, _Kenny_?” He glared at her, but Natasha wasn’t about to move out of the way.

“There’s nothing to say, Carl,” Kennedy murmured, voice much weaker than Nat would have liked.

Sneering, he snarled, “But there’s _so much_ to talk about, _darling_.” He made to reach past her.

Nat just smacked his hand away.

“Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Kennedy’s friend and right now _your_ worst nightmare if you don’t back the fuck up, buddy!” She could smell the booze on him. It wasn’t all courtesy of the bottle in his hand.

“Nat... don’t,” Kennedy said. “I’m not your darling, Carl. Not anymore. Not in five years.”

“And whose choice was that, _darling_? I sure didn’t say we were through. And just _look_ at you. How you’ve let yourself go.” He tsked softly, taking his eyes over her body.

Natasha could almost feel her withdrawing, Kennedy pulling inside herself with each nasty word. “You _do not_ listen to him, Kennedy! You’re perfect just the way you are. Just the way Steve loves you!”

“Steve!?” Carl looked shocked and betrayed. “You’re _cheating_ now, too, Kenny? Whatever were you thinking? I’ll have to reprimand you for it.” His hand dropped to the big buckle on his belt and ran his fingers over it.

The implications had her seeing red. “Touch her, and it will be the last mistake you ever make,” Natasha growled.

***

That move would have once thrown her into a panic, but Kennedy wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, she took a deep breath and thought about Steven.

He was so much more than Carl. Brave, strong, kind. He was a man she was proud to call her lover, and Captain America or not, he was a good man. He was nothing like Carl. He showed her every night just how much he loved her. He liked her soft and a little squishy. He liked how she was a little aggressive in bed and would feed his kink. He liked that she had sass and a smart mouth. And most of all... he loved her.

Straightening up, Kennedy let a shit-eating grin cross her face while placing a hand on Natasha's shoulder. “You should go, Carl, before you embarrass yourself. You’re nothing to me anymore. I have a man who loves me for me and isn’t afraid to show it. He’s so much more than you ever were.” Smirking, she made to walk past him because _man_ did she have to pee.

Nat’s smirk was so proud it made Kennedy blush. Still, the redhead kept her body between them.

“Bitch! You always were a fat fuck, dead fish lay! I bet you found another fat fuck to hump you at night,” Carl snarled, stalking after them.

Turning her head, Natasha smiled. It was a look so potent, so clearly flirtatious, but so evil at the same time, it made Carl falter. It was her widow smile. The one that said she’d eat him alive for the fun of it. “Oh, I wouldn’t say Steve was fat, would you... _Bucky_?”

Kennedy froze before turning slowly around.

Standing behind Carl only a few feet away was Bucky, grinning madly, and a furious Steve.

“Steven...”

He was practically seething, his jaw was so tightly clenched it had a muscle ticking in it. “What did you just say about my girl?” Steve's knuckles cracked when he flexed them.

Carl’s eyes nearly bugged out when he caught sight of the two super soldiers who had appeared silently behind him. “I...”

“You’re going to want to walk away, right the fuck now,” Bucky said, his smile never faltering.

Glaring at the idiot, Steve stalked past him to pull her in close and cup her cheek. “Are you alright, baby?”

Nat’s miracle bruise cream had done wonders for the shiner she had sported, and makeup had done the rest, so she knew she looked okay, even if his eyes lingered.

“I’m fine, Steven.” She smiled shyly up at him. “Carl can’t get to me anymore. I’ve seen him for what he truly is.” She glanced at Carl, looking small in comparison to the two soldiers with her. “A small, pathetic excuse for a man. He's nothing compared to you. Nothing.”

The pride on his face was evident when he leaned down and kissed her. “Perfect, doll face. That’s my Canadian girl.”

Anger twisted Carl’s features as he lunged toward them. “Get your hands off her!”

Bucky plucked the bottle Carl had raised out of his hand, but it was Natasha who kicked him. Once in the gut and a second time square in the chest, knocking Carl into the wall.

“You want us to hand him off to security, Cap? Or should we just toss his stupid ass out in the snow?” Nat asked.

***

Steve had seen it coming a mile away, hadn’t even bothered to flinch because Bucky and Nat always had his back, but Kennedy had recoiled in a way which had his jaw clenching again. Just what hadn't she told him about Carl? “He never laid a hand on her, so the snow is your best option. Other than being drunk and stupid there is nothing to charge him with.”

“I’m on it,” Bucky said, grabbing the stunned idiot by the back of his shirt.

“Steven?” Kennedy whispered as Bucky dragged the protesting Carl away.

“Yeah, baby?” He gently stroked his fingers over her cheek, so proud of how she’d stood up to her ex.

“I _really_ need to use the ladies room.”

He snickered before letting her go. “I’ll wait right here for both of you.” He nodded to Natasha, more grateful than he could currently express as Kennedy darted through the door.

***

Bucky thrust open the exit and dumped dumbass outside. Keeping his foot in the doorway so he could get back in, he crouched down beside the man who was clearly hurting from the power of Nat's kicks.

She sure hadn't been inclined to pull her punches with this one.

“You’re a lucky fellow, you know that?” he said to Carl, slowly beginning to peel the glove from his hand.

“Fuck... you,” Carl wheezed.

“How do I figure, you ask? Well, let me explain something to you. You see, Kennedy is a special girl, and my best friend loves her a hell of a lot. So much so that he wasn’t  about to take away her victory over the abuser she escaped by taking matters into his own hands and beating you bloody.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out Carl had hurt Kennedy. Maybe not physically, but he'd scarred her emotionally for sure. Although, with the way she’d recoiled it was a fair guess the fucker had hit her at some point.

“Now me, on the other hand, if Kenny was my girl and I heard someone call her a... what was it? Fat fuck, dead fish lay... I’d a snapped his neck.” Flexing the fingers of his vibranium hand, he picked up the bottle Carl had tried to swing at Steve, turned it to pour what beer remained into the snow, and crushed it, grinding it down to little more than dust. “This _will_ be your only warning. Come near Kennedy again, and it will be the last mistake you make. I am very, _very_ good at my job.” Dusting his hand off on Carl’s shoulder, Bucky squeezed it tightly until the bones ground together and the man hollered. “You have a good night. Best you _don't_ come back inside.”

Getting to his feet, Bucky tugged the glove back on and returned inside, making sure the door snicked shut behind him.

Carl’s pass had read _rodeo doctor_.

He’d be making damn sure to keep an eye out for Dr. Carl Stephenson. The man reeked of trouble.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angst, mention of a past abusive relationship, Smut, NSFW (18+), stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one)

## Chapter Thirteen

[](https://tilltheendwilliwrite.tumblr.com/post/162100749228/canadian-girl)

* * *

Kennedy pressed her hands to her face and rocked ever so slightly back and forth. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt as if it was going to burst right from her chest. All her old fears, her faults, and her failings had just been thrown right back in her face.

He hadn’t said more than a handful of words, but it all came back like a wave of loathing and pain with the first glimpse of his smug face.

She’d done a good job with her false bravado, but the adrenalin had worn off, and now she couldn’t stop shaking.

“Kennedy?” Natasha called quietly in the empty room.

Heeling away the tears which had escaped down her face, Kennedy cleared her throat. “Ye-yeah, Nat?”

“You did really well,” she said, placing her hand on the outside of the stall door.

Gasping a rather wet chuckle, Kennedy leaned her head against the wall, knocking her hat askew. Finishing up, she left the stall and headed for the sink, not bothering to look in the mirror as she washed her hands. “He made me feel so…” She shook her head.

Nat waited for her to be done before handing her a damp towel. “Your makeup’s running.” She watched carefully as Kennedy lifted the towel to drag it beneath her eyes, never once turning to check the mirror. “He’s wrong you know.”

Clearing her throat again, Kennedy muttered, “I know…”

Nat leaned against the counter. “Don’t let him drag you back to where you were six years ago, Kennedy.”

Sighing, Kennedy laid the papers down on the counter, looking at the streaks of makeup which marred the towels. “I’m not you, Natasha. I’m not strong and confident, not in this. I _let_ him break me down, could see it happening, and still, I let him take all of me apart. Piece by piece. Chipping away at who I’d been. How weak am I that I let him do that to me?”

“You’re not asking the right question, Kennedy,” Nat said, taking her hands. “You should be asking what kind of twisted person does that _to_ another person. Sweetie that man would find faults and flaws in whatever woman he was with.”

She knew that, truly, because Carl was an asshole who got off on controlling women, but it didn’t make her feel any less dumb. “He makes me feel… just so… _stupid._ ”

***

More tears filled Kennedy’s eyes and slipped down her cheeks, but it was the words which had Natasha’s eyes widening in sudden understanding. “Oh man. Oh wow.” She had a flashback to the fight Kennedy and Steve had at the Tower before she’d run home. “No wonder you were so upset.”

Nodding slowly, Kennedy sighed. “It was like... I’d fallen for Carl all over again. Deception, half-truths, avoidance, and then to find out he’d lied, even a lie of omission… It was like it was happening all over again.”

“Kennedy, I’m so sorry. You know Steve never meant to hurt you. We just don’t get _this_ anymore. It’s nearly impossible to go anywhere without being recognized. To have you look at him as a _man_ first before you found out, he was _Cap_ … was really big for him. So many people see the shield and never beyond it. For you, it was the other way around.”

“I know that, and I understand, Nat. I love him, I do, _god_ , so much it hurts sometimes! I just feel… _less_ than he deserves.” Removing her hands from Natasha’s, she pressed them to her face. “I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.” Sighing, she picked the damp towels back up and wiped her face.

Patting the woman’s shoulder, Nat had her heart clench.

Kennedy had suffered through her own battles, fought her own demons, and Natasha found her inspiring. She’d trained herself to control her powers mostly alone, fought off depression after the incident with her cousin – a misfire caused by an overexcited Kennedy which had nearly killed Danny - finished high school at sixteen to jump swiftly into University, taken _multiple_ degrees and doctorates at the same time, fallen in with Carl and had him drag her down as far as he could before Kennedy had finally fought her way free. Then, she’d gone to work for a man she feared to do as much good for the world as possible and had fallen in with them.

Kennedy wasn’t a soldier, she wasn’t a super-secret spy, she wasn’t _battle-tested_ in the traditional sense, but _damn_ if she wasn’t rapidly becoming a woman Natasha respected all the more for the way she just kept getting back up. Every time the world knocked her down, Kennedy stood up, dusted herself off, and smiled as she just kept going. Some of that had to do with the amazing family she came from, but most of it was just who Kennedy was on the inside. There was a will of vibranium in the core of this women.

“I really admire you, Kennedy.”

“What?” Kennedy whispered, head snapping up to look at her. “Why?”

Smiling softly, Nat took the towels and helped fix the mess of Kenny’s makeup. Clearly, she wasn’t ready to look in the mirror. “You’re so damn strong, Kennedy. No matter how far life kicks you down, you just get back up. The _strength_ you have here,” she gently tapped Kenny’s heart, “Rivals that of Captain America himself. You’re an inspiration.”

“Nat…” Kennedy shook her head.

“You’re stronger than you think. You stood before your abuser and told him he was _nothing_. Don’t make him into _something_ because he got under your skin with a few ridiculous comments.” She snorted softly in derision. “After all, he called _Steve_ fat. How wrong can one person be?”

A surprised giggle burst from Kennedy’s lips. “His eyes were so _big_!”

“I thought he was going to wet himself when Bucky jerked him up by the shirt.” Nat snickered.

“I kind of wish I’d kicked him…” Kennedy whispered.

Natasha looked at her with a smile which made men quake in their boots. “I can teach you if you want when we go home.”

Kennedy ran her hands down her hips and thighs self-consciously. “I don’t… I won’t be any good at… that.”

Shaking her head, Natasha smacked Kennedy’s hands. “Do not even start! Do you know what I’d give to have that bubble ass and those tits? Girl, don’t even go there. You’ve got the whole hourglass, Kim Kardashian, pin-up girl vibe going on. Add some red lips, and a pair of short shorts and Steve would need to pack his shield _permanently_ just to hide the evidence.”

“Oh my god, Natasha!” Kennedy barked out in laughter.

“Honey, you are _hot_ with a sizzling _H_. Just cause pencil dick couldn’t get it up without bringing you down has _nothing_ to do with you.” Pulling lip gloss from her pocket, Nat applied a swath to her lips before offering it to Kennedy.

She snorted out another laugh, turning to face the mirror. A little red around the eyes, Kennedy had managed to avoid the ugly crying and wasn’t too splotchy. Her makeup was pretty much gone, but the bruising around her eye was faint thanks to Natasha’s homemade bruise cream. It would hardly be noticeable once they were back in the dimly lit bar area. Slicking the gloss over her lips, Kennedy handed it back.

Smirking wickedly, Natasha said coyly, “After all, I doubt _Carl_ could have kept it up for three minutes, let alone three hours.”

“Natasha!” Kennedy squeaked, blushing red right to the roots of her hair. “How… when… who told you about that?” she finally hissed.

“Sweetie, I’m a spy. No one needs to _tell_ me anything.” Grinning, Nat sauntered towards the door.

Once through it, Kennedy was immediately seized by the firm grip of Bucky who tugged her towards him. “Bucky?”

“Come dance with me, doll. Then you can buy me a beer with some more of your weird, colourful money.” He smirked, teasing just to rile her up.

“Weird! Our money is not weird!” she huffed indignantly, following along as he dragged her away.

Natasha made to follow only to have her elbow captured. Frowning at Steve, she was unprepared when he dragged her into a tight hug. “Steve?”

“Thanks, Nat,” he murmured near her ear.

“Rogers!” she gasped in mock surprise. “Were you _eavesdropping_? How very un-Captain America of you.” She’d known damn well both the super soldiers in the hall would hear every word and be perfectly fine with it. She wasn't about to let _Carl_ ruin the night after Kenny had been having so much fun.

"You're right though. Kennedy is an inspiration,” Steve said, hugging her tight.

“She really is, Steve.” She hugged him back, kissed his cheek, and pulled away.

***

Later that night, Kennedy lay with her head over Steven’s heart. Naked and a little drunk, her whole body hummed contentedly after his loving. Every time he touched her it was stars and fireworks and passionate words. “Do you think it will ever not be this way?”

Stroking his fingers through her hair, Steve hummed happily. “No, doll face. You’re always going light me up.”

“Did you have a thing with Natasha?” Mentally, she kicked herself for asking something she hadn’t really wanted to know the answer to. Loose lips were always a problem for her when she’d had too much to drink, but she'd caught the little exchange they'd had in the hallway outside the washroom.

Frowning, Steve rolled so the light coming through the hotel window shone on her face. “What brought this on?”

She shrugged, unable to meet his eyes.

Cupping her cheek, he stroked it gently with his thumb. “We kissed once. Middle of a mall to escape detection by the Hydra agents which were chasing us, just before SHIELD fell. Afterward, she asked if it had been my first kiss since nineteen-forty-five.” He rolled his eyes.

Kennedy snickered at the look of exasperation on his face. “That bad, huh?”

“The wrong partner,” he said, taking her lips in a gentle, soft kiss.

Her breath quickened, body warmed, and he drew his hand down her torso to her waist.

Lifting his head slowly, he watched her eyelids flutter open. “In total, I’ve kissed five women.”

“What?” she was kind of stunned.

“Peggy, whom everyone knows about. She was my first love and…” he shrugged, eyes sad. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Steven,” she murmured, cupping his face. “I’m sorry.”

He smiled and kissed her again. “It’s alright. She was happy. Got married and had a family. It’s what she wanted.”

But she could see the twinge of pain it brought to his heart to remember.

“Before that, there was this secretary who kind of just grabbed me by the tie and kissed me after I’d rescued Bucky and the 107th from behind enemy lines. There was this whole, _saved all those women’s husbands_ speech over it that I...”

She smirked at him, and he cleared his throat.

“Moving on. Nat was number three, and you know how _that_ turned out.”

She snickered and made him grin.

“But Sharon was the only other woman I dated before you.”

She stared up at him in shock. “Two? You’ve had _two_ girlfriends?”

He flushed a little and looked away. “Been kinda busy saving the world and all that. Haven’t exactly had time to be a social butterfly.” He looked down at her and the smile on her lips. “And I don’t take sex lightly, doll face. It _means_ something to me when I bed a woman. Like a promise.”

“How on god’s green earth did you become Captain Sex on Legs after only _one_ girlfriend?” What the hell kind of lover _was_ this Sharon?

Chuckling softly, he brushed his nose over hers. “I ain’t going to lie, baby. I enjoyed what I had with Sharon, but _this_? Shit, Kennedy. You’re like Aphrodite, goddess of love in my bed. I’ve _never_ felt the things I feel when I’m with you.” Dropping his lips to her cheek, he shifted over top of her and smiled when her legs wrapped his waist. Rubbing his renewed erection through wet folds, he groaned softly as he sank into her. “It’s like coming _home_ , baby. There’s just nowhere else I’d rather be. No one else I’d rather be with than you, Kennedy.”

She arched up as he slowly made love to her. Long glides of thick cock through sensitive folds left her breathless and moaning. Her hands drifted down his back, and she pulled him flush to her, loving the way his chest brushed her sensitive nipples. “Steven…” she whispered near his ear. “I love you.”

“Kennedy… you’re mine.” He crooned back, dropping his head to her shoulder as he pumped into her tight body. Turning his face to her throat, he found the spot with her tattoo and brought his mouth to just beneath it, sucking in time with his thrusts as he increased his speed. Once he’d left a nice mark on her, he drew his lips back to her ear. “I love you so much, baby. You going to come for me, my best girl? Come for me like the good girl you are?”

A particularly strong thrust of hips set her moaning. “Again…”

He complied, and she felt the pleasure slam up her spine.

“Oh god, _Steven_ …”

“That’s it, baby. I love it when you moan like that. Claw me up, sweetheart. Scream my name!”

“Steven!” she shrieked as he fucked her deep into the mattress. “Fuck! Yes!” She clamped like a vice around him, raking her nails down his back.

Groaning, Steve slammed his hips into hers and held tight as she squeezed hot ropes of seed from him. “Fuck, Kennedy,” he moaned, collapsing down on top of her. “Baby…so good. Every time with you just gets better and better.”

Releasing the grip of her thighs, Kennedy drew her hands down his back. A soothing gesture as she could feel the welts her nails had left behind.

He was heavy, but she kind of liked it, especially as he was still mostly hard and twitched at the aftershocks her body was experiencing. “My big strong soldier brought down in his prime by a woman.” Turning her head, she lightly licked his ear.

Humming, Steve turned his, closing his teeth on the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder with a growl. “Keep it up, woman, and I’ll make you work for it.”

“Oh? How so?” She tightened her inner walls, making him shiver.

***

Sliding his arms beneath her, Steve sat up and back, the bedding falling from them as he held her hips tight to his so they stayed connected when he stepped from the bed. Striding slowly across the hotel room, he made his way over to where the floor to ceiling tinted glass window looked out on the city skyline.

They'd ended up with one seriously elegant suite thanks to their last minute booking, one he’d charged to Tony, but now he was glad they had the luxury for he sat on the bench placed before the window and leaned back against the glass. It was cold, but at the moment he didn’t care.

“Steven?” she whispered arms tight around his neck. “The view kind of gives me vertigo.”

“Then look at me, love.” Making sure her knees were comfortably placed on the bench, Steve drew his hands up her back, along her ribs, eventually coming around to cup her breasts and lift them to his mouth. “You were so beautiful tonight on the dance floor. All swaying hips and sexy eyes. Dance for me now, Kennedy.”

Moaning when her nipple was engulfed by his mouth, Kennedy reached for the remote on the far end of the bench and gave it a click. “Ha! Perfect.”

Sultry music spilled out of the speakers. She tossed the remote to a chair behind her.

“How’d you know?” Steve asked, plucking at her nipple with his lips.

She smirked down at him. “High-end hotel, luxury suite, the music is _always_ mood music.”

“And have you _often_ needed _mood music_ , Kennedy?”

She’d asked first so he figured the information was fair game. Peering down at him, she cupped his face in her palms. “Three boyfriends. Jake when I was in my first year of high school. Sweet and kind but no chemistry so we parted.  Tommy, when I was sixteen, was my first lover. He was gentle and giving and taught me to enjoy what we did, but I left for UNI early so it was a bittersweet ending. Carl was the last.”

“We don’t need to talk about him, not right now. But I do want to know, Kennedy, when you’re ready. I want you to feel free to tell me anything and know I’ll never judge _you_ for it,” Steve said. A shadow flickered in her eyes that had him closing his hands on her ass to distract her. “Dance for me, baby.”

As the music changed into a heavy, thudding base, Kennedy’s eyes darkened, her hands fell to his shoulders, and she gently began to move to the rhythm.

“Merciful God…” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off the siren she became when she moved over him.

A smile graced her lips, and she sat up straight, keeping her movements slow, sensual, a gentle undulation of her hips over his. Just the slightest press and retreat, glide of moist lips over hard shaft. Drawing her hands to her hips, she followed the curves and planes of her body, up to cup her breasts, skimming them up her chest to dive into her loose, wavy locks. The music quickened and so did she, riding over him in gentle arcs and dips. She arched her head back and groaned out, “ _Captain_...” Lights and shadows played over the glistening skin of her body.

Steve gripped her ass just a bit tighter, rocked her just that much harder down on him. “Fuck, baby.”

Emeralds, hard as stones, peered down at him and Kennedy smiled a grin which nearly stopped his heart. When the hell had she learn to smile like Natasha? She looked like she was going to eat him alive. Slowly, Kennedy released the hold she had on her hair, letting her hands fall to find his wrists. Pulling his hands from her ass, she lifted his arms and pressed his wrists to the glass.

He moved for her, knowing it made her happy when he was a willing participant in her games.

She would never have moved him otherwise. “You said you’d make me work for it, remember?” she smirked. Her lips were inches from his, her breasts rubbing teasingly against his chest, and her tight walls kept sliding and squeezing over his cock.

“Kennedy...”

“Do you want me to work for it, _Cap_?” she whispered against his lips.

“Yeah. Yeah baby,” he murmured back.

“Hands behind your back, soldier. Link your fingers together.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He was pretty damn sure his cock had just grown even harder if that was at all possible.

When Kennedy moaned on her next downward stroke, he knew it was.

He was quick to move his hands behind his back when she let him go.

Another smile crossed her lips before she placed them softly on his. “You ready for this, Cap?” Her lips whispered over his, a counterpoint to the heat and wet of her tight body.

“Give it your best shot, doll.”

Sitting back, Kennedy drew her nails lightly over his pectorals, traced the edge, and ran her thumbs over small, hard nipples. She watched his muscles flex in his arms when he clenched his hands together. A laugh spilled from her lips, low and husky and just a bit wicked. “Struggle all you like, _Captain_. Your mine for the foreseeable future.”

His brow arched, a smirk twitching his lips before he sobered.

She’d taken his dance and turned it into a little role play.

“Do your worst, Doc. I ain’t giving you nothing.”

Rocking up, she rested her hands on his ribs, held herself above him, just barely connected, a smile flirting with her lips. “You think you can resist me? Resist this?” Slowly, inch by inch, she lowered back down until he pressed against her core. Rolling her hips, she mimicked a smooth canter, making his mouth fall open. “What information are you protecting?” She was killing him with her open-minded, adventurous spirit.

“Rogers, Steven. Captain, 54985870. Date of birth, July 4th, 1920.”  His heart was pounding, his chest heaving. Cock throbbing in a way he’d never known before. “You’ll… get nothing… from me!”

Tsking softly, Kennedy clenched her fingers into his ribs, made him flinch. Then, she tightened her inner muscles and smirked when his mouth dropped open again. “I think, _Captain_ , you want to give me the information.”  Rising up, she slammed her hips down in three hard plunges and moved a hand to her clit. “I think you would happily give it to me if only I would let you touch me, no?” Rubbing small circles, she groaned deeply. Her other hand went behind her to his knee as she arched back, giving him a show. She rocked and danced and undulated over his lap to the heavy pulsing beat.

He could see himself disappearing inside her body, his cock glistening with her essence. His hands ached with how hard he was gripping them together. “Fuck, Doc.”

Her hair swung behind her in a curtain of silk, and her body glowed in the light from the window. Sweat was beading on her skin, trickling down between her breasts.

His palms _itched_ to grab her close so he could lick at the long line of her exposed throat.

“Give me what I want, Captain, and you can take what you want.”

His biceps bulged, chest heaved, and a heavy flush invaded his face.

Her sultry eyes had darkened into a deep green, showing her pleasure in their shining depths behind her lashes. A pink tongue darted out to moisten her parted, panting lips, leaving them glossed as her teeth caught the bottom one in a sexy little bite.

“No…” He managed to groan out. “Rogers, Steve... Captain, 54985870. Date… date of birth, July…..4th, 1920.”

She leaned forward to labour over him, her smile knowing with his faltering, sliding her hand over his shoulder and into his hair. She gave it a gentle pull, rocking her hips down hard before pressing her chest to his and her lips to his jawline. “But you want to. I can see it on your face, soldier. Just give in, Captain, and this can all end.”

He was pretty sure he’d cut off the circulation to his fingers by this point. “Doc…” Turning his head, his mouth sought hers, but she turned hers away and made him growl.

“Tell me what I want to hear, Captain,” she whispered, lips only an inch from his, holding him back by his hair.

“Kennedy.”

Her mouth was so close but so far. “Give in… give in and take what you want,” she whispered.

He could feel the flutter in her sheath and swore. “Damn it, woman!” His hands unlocked and sank into her hair. “I love you! Is that what you want to hear?”

She smiled that man-eating grin.

His abdomen was cramping from holding himself back, but she looked like the cat who’d eaten the canary.

“Thank you, Captain,” she crooned. “You’ve been ever so… _helpful_.”

Snarling softly, Steve slammed his mouth down on hers in a hard kiss, forcing his tongue past her lips. Hands smacking to her ass, he shoved to his feet, kicking the stool out of the way, sending it crashing across the room, and pressed Kennedy firmly into the glass.

She yelped at the cold.

He smirked against her throat. “You so deserve that,” he grumbled, driving his hips up into hers, forcing his cock deep.

Crying out, Kennedy wrapped her arms around his neck, moaning when he squeezed her ass with each hard thrust. “Why?” she whined, tilting her head when he bit at her shoulder.

“Made me break, baby. Me. Captain America gave in to the demands of my interrogator. How the hell am I supposed to live _that_ down?”

“I also stole your gun,” she quipped.

He thrust hard.

“Steven!” she hollered.

Dropping her feet the floor, Steve pulled out of her rapidly tightening walls and spun her to face the window. “Hands on the glass, baby.”

The command, for it was hard and demanding in his voice which lashed authority, made her quiver in excitement as she placed her palms against the window.

“Good girl,” Steve said, stroking his hands down her spine. Gripping her hips, he drew her back slightly, forcing her back to sway. “Spread your legs, Doc.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Kennedy shifted her feet. Her body was arched, breasts swaying. Her lips parted on a breathy moan when he lined himself up and plunged back in.

Growling softly, Steve curved his body over hers, wrapped his arms around her, lifted her enough to press her chest to the window.

Another breathy moan escaped her lips when the cold hit her sensitive nipples.

With his body tight to her spine, he slowly, methodically, started to fuck her. Hard jerks of his hips, full glides in and out of tight walls until he was pulling nearly fully out before diving back in. Grunting, groaning, _straining_ , with how she’d undone him, he took her on one hell of a ride. “You’re never allowed to interrogate anyone else. Not _ever_.”

Plastered to the window, Kennedy gasped, “Why?”

“Too fucking good, baby. Too good. Broke me down so fast.” Removing one hand from her body, he sought out her hand and clasped their fingers together.

Her face was turned towards him, cheek resting against the window, breath fogging it slightly, and Steve nipped at her earlobe, sucking it between his lips as he nibbled on it.

“Open your eyes, doll. It’s like we're loving in the open. Anyone could look out and see you pressed to the window. You’re on display for the world to see.”

Only she wasn’t. The glass worked one way, and the room was dark behind him. But a fresh rush of wetness soaked his cock, and he moaned. “You like that don’t you? Little voyeur. Do you like the idea of getting caught, Doc?”

“No…”

“Liar,” he whispered in her ear. Again he could feel the flutter of her tightening sheath. “That’s it, baby. You going to come for me?” He kissed her cheek and jaw, down her throat to her shoulder, and sucked on her skin, leaving little marks all along the length.

“Steven…” she moaned, staring out at the city lights. “Oh god!”

“Fuck, doll face!” He increased his pace, arching and thrusting, curving just enough to catch her sweet spot with every plunge until she drew a deep breath. He drove up in a rapid pace, causing her head to tilt back as a keening wail of release became of a scream of, _holy god, Steven_ , when she came with the force of a train.

“Fuck!” he bellowed as he followed her over into nerve searing release. His hips pulsed with each jet of seed her clenching walls drew from him. She milked him dry, and he found himself leaning heavily against her against the window. “Damn, baby…” he whispered in awe.

Sighing happily, Kennedy’s legs shook a little when he pulled away, but his arms surrounded her and lifted her off her feet. “Mmm, was fun.”

His hands shifted her around. The music cut out when he pressed the button on the remote, plunging them into silence. “You nearly killed me, woman, with your teasing,” he grumbled, sliding them both back into bed. Kissing her lips, he drew the sheets up and wrapped his arms around her.

She’d been having nightmares off and on since… _Hydra_.

He found holding her like this the most effective way of keeping them at bay. After a week of sleeping in her bed, he knew tomorrow he would likely wake to find he’d moved down the mattress to wrap his arms around her hips and his head would be pillowed on her soft belly. It was a fantastic way to wake up.

A smug grin flashed on her tired mouth. “You liked it.”

“Yeah, I did. Still, let’s keep the fact that you broke me and made me give up my Intel, between us.” He chuckled softly.

“I have made you a double agent now. You have been trapped by my sexual prowess. You’ll do anything to stay in my good graces,” she teased.

“Darn right,” Steve murmured. “Go to sleep, baby.”

“Yes, sir,” she quipped softly and did just that.

Chuckling, Steve kissed her temple, curled around her, and followed her into dreams.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Discussion of past abusive relationship, violence, swearing, stereotyping of Canadians (I’m allowed, I am one)

## Chapter Fourteen

* * *

****It was the last day of CFR. Though they’d seen more of rodeo than any one of them had ever wanted to, it had also been more fun than expected.

Steve had stuck close to Kennedy, watchful for Carl, but the man had kept his distance.

With the way the three of them scowled at him anytime Kennedy’s ex came around, it didn’t surprise Bucky none. Still, something about the lingering glares he set on Kennedy gave Bucky a bad feeling. He made sure when Steve wasn’t with her, he was.

The area behind the chutes was either brimming with energy and activity or completely laid back. Bucky had been asked more than once if he was riding as he perpetually wore his glove, but he would just smile and shrug, make up an excuse about having suffered a burn which left it overly sensitive, hence the covering.

Everyone would just smile and nod, understanding in their eyes. A few times someone would lift a shirttail or pull up a pant leg to show their own nasty wounds where they’re gotten raked or gored by a bull. By the end of the week, Bucky had decided the cowboys were either bat crap crazy, or some tough sons of bitches. Maybe a bit of both.

It was surprisingly easy to blend in, too. He’d denied being _that_ Bucky a few times, had Nat call him James a few more, and soon the rest of the crews and cowboys behind the chutes got into the habit of denying it for him when new people would ask.

The same went for Steve as Kennedy religiously called him Steven. People brushed it all off as coincidence because, really, why in the world would three Avengers be wandering around at the Canadian Finals Rodeo?

Now, the last day, Jonas’s bull Cyclone was up to be ridden. The big Brahma was an ornery fuck, and Kennedy’s dad had asked if he’d lend a hand. They’d formed a wary truce, he and that asshole bull.

Kennedy, too, was up on the chutes a little farther down.

Rank ass Cyclone was going to be the first bull out, but the broncs weren’t quite done yet.

She was helping Matt deal with one who wanted to rear up and not turn out of the gate. Apparently, she and the bronc had an understanding which involved carrots for good behaviour or some such nonsense. Whatever it was, it was working.

Steve and Nat were on the ground watching but stayed back out of the way. Near Cap’s feet was a large black canvas bag, round, used to haul lariats, but low and behold if it didn’t perfectly fit Cap’s shield.

Kennedy had found it for him at the Expo which was also on and picked it up.  

It had made Bucky chuckle, but Steve always felt better if he had his circle of protection with him. And no one said a damn thing about a guy wandering around packing something like that.

Kennedy was just so damn perfect for him. She wasn’t some tough warrior princess. She was girl next door sweet and suited Cap.

The man was a protector. He needed a woman who needed that from him.

When the bull caused a ruckus, he reached into the chute, gave a horn a hard jerk and glared into that angry dark eye. “Cut it out.”

Glancing back towards Matt and Kenny, he watched her place a calm hand on the broncs nose as the rider settled.

A rapid nod from the rider and the gate swung open.

The Doc gave the horse’s head a shove.

Finally, the bronc broke out to buck and jump and kick wildly. Looked like carrots were on the menu tonight.

Eight seconds went by, and the pickup men ran up alongside the rider who used one to slide to the ground where he threw his hat in the air, waving to the cheering crowd.

Beside him, Bucky heard one of the old-timers murmur about the best ride of the night. Sure enough, he’d picked up top marks.

The more clanging metal had him looking down the chutes. The inner dividers were opening to allow the bulls to load their way into the individual pens.

He looked back at Cyclone who just stood there. “Well?”

The bull snorted.

Bucky reached inside, jerking on that horn again, encouraging Cyclone to move along.

He banged his horns into the metal of the pen and charged down the chutes.

“Ornery bastard,” he muttered. Sauntering along the walkway, Bucky made his way towards Kennedy, watching as Matt headed down the stairs and away towards the pens to check on the bronc while the big Brahma ended up in the pen nearest the Doc and proceeded to throw himself around.

Rolling his eyes, Bucky growled deeply, “Don’t make me punch your nasty ass.”

***

Chuckling, Kennedy grinned up at Bucky. “I’m not sure he understands your threats.”

“He understands just fine,” Bucky snarled at the bull. “Best move out of the way, Doc.” Placing his hand on her back, he urged her toward the stairs.

She pouted a little. “Aw, I never get to watch from up here.” Not the bulls, anyway. “Just him? Cyclone’s first and I really want to watch him earn those points that will push him to the top of the leaderboard!” She just knew this was the year one of her dad’s bulls would take the top spot. Nudging Bucky with her elbow, she grinned up at him and whispered, “I’m so glad you didn’t punch him.”

“After Steve and Aces? I know better.” Leaning down near her ear he whispered, “Besides if I hit him with this, I’d likely kill the fucker.”

She patted his arm, the metal one and glanced towards Steven.

He was grinning at her and motioned her to come down.

She held up a finger and winked before moving out of the way of the cowboys wanting to get ready, to stand along the rail with a few other watchers.

The pens gave way to dirt and the exit gate, the railing only shin high, and she leaned out carefully to see the action.

The rider getting up on Cyclone was not someone she was familiar with, but the men standing with her seemed to like his chances. Hand on the rail, Kennedy peered past the men, watching intently as the rider tucked his chin, gave a nod, and the chute came open. Lifting her hands to her lips, she cheered with the rest, excited to see Cyclone pulling out all the stops as he bucked and spun.

So, when the blow came to the back of her head, knocking her forward and over the rail into the path of the charging bull, she never saw it coming.

***

Intent on the rider and the bull, Bucky didn’t see it happen, only the gasping cry of distress which had him turning to look. The crumpled form of Kennedy, the red of her shirt and white of her hat unmistakable, was sprawled out in the dirt feet from where Cyclone had just thrown his rider off.

When the bull turned to her, there was no hesitation.

Bucky leapt the rail the same time Steve did, the red and blue of Cap’s shield gleaming beneath the overhead lights.

***

“Love looks good on you, Cap,” Nat smirked, giving Steve a nudge with her elbow.

Steve grinned down at her. “Thanks, Nat. She makes me happy.”

“I’d have to be blind and deaf not to notice. The two of you light each other up. She’s good for you. So adorably girl next door. It’s no wonder you _gush_ when you talk about her,” she teased, laughing as his cheeks reddened. “And then you blush when you realize you’re gushing.” She patted his arm.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he gave a sheepish shrug. “I hope I’m good for her, too.”

“Oh, you are. That whole mess with Carl… Steve.” She shook her head.

“Kennedy tell you much?”

“Enough.”

The hard eyes and cold voice was all he needed to see. “He hurt her?”

“Physically? Only once.”

Grinding his teeth together, Steve looked up to where Kennedy was leaning over the rail. The shape of her ass in those tight fitting wranglers momentarily distracted him. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

He looked down to Nat. “You’re good for her too, you know.”

She shook her head. “I think it’s Kenny. She’s just good for all-” she gasped, grabbing for Steve’s arm.

His head whipped up in time to see Carl’s fist connect with the back of Kennedy’s head, sending his girl straight over the rail into the path of the charging Brahma. “Natasha!”

“On it!” she took off after Carl, the man running along the chutes.

Kicking his shield up, bag and all, Steve ripped it free as he vaulted the railing, landing in front of Kennedy. Bracing, he grunted against the force when Cyclone’s horns skidded off his shield with a resounding clang.

***

He darted and weaved between people, knocking cowboys out of his way. Young or old it didn’t matter. Carl was determined to get away, but Natasha was far more determined to catch him.

Tired of dodging people, she leapt to the metal rails of the chutes, balancing easily as she ran along above the bulls. She didn’t think about what would happen if she missed a step.

Reaching the end, she caught the eyes of Eric, a sweet, shy cowboy she’d flirted with all week. It hadn’t gone beyond a flirtation.

He was just too sweet for her.

She’d eat him alive, but he was gaping at her, swinging a rope lazily against his hip. Holding up her hand, she hollered, “Eric! Rope!”

He tossed it to her as she raced by.

Under no illusion she could actually rope the fucker, Nat simply threw the loop, so it wrapped around his ankles, tripping him up.

It was enough as Carl stumbled into the underside of the stands.

When he righted himself, Natasha was there. “Oh you made a big fucking mistake,” she snarled.  She ducked the jab he threw at her, sidestepped the second one, reached out and slammed her fist into his jaw.

It snapped his head back.

Smiling her man-eating grin, she followed through a knee to the groin, a fist to the gut, an elbow jaw. She punched him hard enough to knock a few teeth loose. A second solid kick straight to the balls had him collapsing to the ground.

Following him down, Nat ground his face into the dirty concrete. Over his groaning, she snarled, “Be thankful it was me he sent after you. Steve would have broken you in half, but Bucky? He would have killed you. You’d best _pray_ Kennedy isn’t badly hurt, or I guarantee you won’t live through the night.” She laughed softly when he whimpered in pain. “If the Winter Soldier doesn’t come for you… I will,” she hissed menacingly in his ear.

He went limp beneath her hold.

Snorting at his lack of resistance, Natasha dragged the rope toward them.

“You need a hand there… uh… ma'am?” Eric asked, hat in hand.

“Calf roper, right?”

He nodded.

Natasha smiled wickedly. “Want to show me the proper way to hogtie something?” She held out the rope.

***

Steve heaved against Cyclone as the bull tried to gore him.

Then, Bucky was there, plowing into the shoulder of the bull with enough force to send them both sideways. Wrapping his arm around the bull’s neck, he hollered at Steve. “Get her outta here!”

Cyclone’s horn caught his sleeve as the bull bellowed and bucked, ripping it open and skidding over the plates, lifting him off his feet.

When he dropped back to the dirt, Bucky dug in his heels, pushing the angry bull farther into the arena. Holding on tight, trying not to injure the nasty thing unless he had to, Bucky forced him away step by step.

The whole family had high hopes for the bull, but if it came down to Cyclone or Kennedy, he wouldn’t hesitate to break the fucker’s neck.

***

Steve knelt beside Kennedy. “C’mon, sweetheart. I need you to open your eyes,” he begged as his hand went to the back of her head. His palm came away bloody.

“Steve!” Matt landed beside him.

“Don’t move her! I don’t know how badly she’s hurt,” Steve warned.

“I’ll watch her. Help, Bucky! You got to get Cyclone out of here!”

He turned in time to see his friend fly through the air. Dirt sprayed up like a wave as Bucky plowed through it. Rolling, he dug his metal hand into the ground bringing himself to a stop.

Cyclone was in full charge as Steve jolted up.

Running flat out, he slammed shield-first into the bull’s shoulder, knocking Cyclone onto his side.

The bull bellowed, anger in the sound when he thrashed his way back to his feet.

“C’mon you ornery fuck!” Bucky snarled, swinging open the out gate.

Steve chucked his shield at Bucky. “Hold that will ya?”

Snatching it out of midair, Bucky shook his head. “That ain’t no cutting horse!”

“Guess I’d best be quick then!”

Cyclone was already headed for him, so Steve reached out and gave the rank bull a solid smack on the nose as he ran toward Bucky. The bull was out for blood, snorting, grunting, reminding him of a cartoon he’d once seen of a character called Bugs Bunny. It gave him the insane desire to smack the Brahma again and say _stop steaming up my tail_.

However, he was more inclined to get the bull away from Kennedy, out of the arena, and as far as he could from the medical team working on her.

As he raced through the gate, he grabbed Bucky’s outstretched arm. A sharp jerk sent him swinging up in the air, Cyclone’s horns just grazing the back of his shirt as he flipped over the back of the bull. Darting to the side, the gate clanged shut behind him.

His hat and glasses had come off not long after he’d landed in the arena, as had Bucky’s along with a good chunk of Buck’s left sleeve. The deathly quiet of the place was suddenly filled with the screaming, cheering cry of ten thousand people. The chant of _Avengers_ echoed, making him nearly deaf, but as Bucky handed back his shield, Steve only had eyes for Kennedy.

She was seated beside Matt, holding her head.

He ran straight for her, sliding to a stop on his knees, his shield falling to the ground as he made to cup her face. “Kennedy?” he mouthed the word for he knew she wouldn’t hear him over the screaming.

She nodded slowly, pain present in her eyes.

Dragging her into his arms, he buried his face against her throat. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so scared before. Shaking slightly, he realized how close he’d come to losing her.

A hand landed on his shoulder.

Looking up reluctantly, he noticed the medics motioning him to let her go. _Not hardly._ Scooping her up, he held her close, stomped on his shield to have it sliding back up his arm, and motioned for them to lead the way.

With Bucky helping clear a path, they made it back to where the ambulance and paramedics were waiting.

“Steven, I’m alright,” Kennedy said once the noise was drowned out some. The pain on her face said otherwise.

“You took a blow to the head, doll. You’re going to get checked out.” He placed her on the gurney. Taking her hand, he stepped back only enough to stay out of the EMT’s way.

At her feet, Bucky tapped the toe of her boot. “Jeez, doll face. If you wanted to get in on the action, there were better ways to do it.”

“Shut it, Barnes,” she quipped, flinching when the medic flashed a light in her eyes.

“Kenny!” Jonas bellowed, shoving his way forward.

“I’m alright, dad.”

“Oh, thank Jesus!” He sagged against Bucky. “If anything had happened to you, little girl…”

She glanced up at him, and Steve motioned Jonas to her side, letting go of her hand so her father could take his place.

Standing with Buck, he watched as the man bent, kissing the forehead of his daughter.

“I’m really okay, dad. Promise.”

“I’d a put a bullet in Cyclone’s head myself if he’d hurt you.” Kissing her cheek, Jonas turned to the two of them with wet eyes. “I can’t ever…” he shook his head.

“Sir, we’re going to need to take Ms. Jones now. University Hospital,” the younger of the two medics said.

“She’s Doctor Jones, and he’s going with you.” Jonas pointed at Steve.

“Sir,” the medic held up his hand.

Steve, gratitude evident, nodded to Jonas before turning on the medic. “Son, don’t even start. Where she goes, I go.” Over his shoulder, he called out, “Buck! See if you can find Nat. She went after him.”

“Roger that, Cap.”

“And call Maria. Someone’s going to need to spin this fast. Otherwise, it’ll do that thing where it catches the flu.” Everyone looked at him in confusion.

Kennedy snorted out a laugh only to groan in pain. “He means it’ll go viral!”

Flushing, Steve shook his head. “Yeah, that,” he grumbled as everyone snickered. Linking his fingers with Kennedy’s, he climbed in the back of the ambulance. Least she understood him.

***

Steve sat slouched in the relatively comfortable chair in Kennedy’s hospital room watching her sleep. They’d decided to keep her overnight for observation.

Whether it was because she truly needed it, or the fact of him being who he was and they were catering to him, he didn’t know or care. All he knew was when they’d tried to tell him visiting hours were over, he’d simply turned around, walked across the room, and sat at her bedside.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

The second surprise had been when he’d told the nurse whatever charges accrued would be covered by Stark Enterprises, and she’d laughed.

This was Canada, she’d said. As Kennedy was a Canadian citizen, her healthcare was free.

Stunned, he could on stare at her. What would these people think up next?

Buck and Nat, along with Jonas and Matt, had been by earlier. Buck had been thoughtful enough to swing by the hotel and grab his stuff, knowing he wasn’t going to be leaving. Kennedy had spoken with her mother via phone, and he’d dealt with the host of incredibly polite policemen.

The Edmonton police had happily secured the floor, not because he was concerned about Carl, Natasha had caught that idiot only moments after he’d fled, apparently hogtying the bastard with a rope tossed to her by a cowboy she’d flirted with all week. No, the cops were there to keep the reporters at bay.

Maria had flown in, bitched about the cold, and did what she did best. She’d spun the story.

It was now public knowledge Kennedy was his girl, and he’d been on leave to meet and spend time with her family. Their coming to CFR had been simply to help out Jonas, nothing more, and the impromptu showdown with the bull had been due to the unfortunate jealousy of Kennedy’s ex who’d taken it upon himself to try and hurt her out of spite, unaware of just _who_ her friends were.

He’d had to talk Bucky out of killing Carl. Twice. His friend was out for blood. Both of them knew if Bucky really wanted to, Carl would be dead, and no one would ever be the wiser as to who had done it. The Winter Soldier was a sniper, first and foremost, and Bucky had access to some serious weapons.

But it wouldn’t be what Kennedy wanted. Jail for the asshole, yes. She didn’t want any more blood on her hands. Even if the shedding of it would be by another’s, she would still feel guilt over Carl’s demise.

A whimper broke him from his musings.

Looking up, he watched her fists clench.

Her brows furrowed. Her head thrashed. “No…” she moaned, and he was on his feet.

“Kennedy, baby. Wake up, sweetheart,” he coaxed her gently, stroking her cheek.

Her eyes snapped open, and she groaned softly. “Steven?”

“Yeah, doll. I’m here.”

Anguish filled her eyes. “Steven…”

He knew she’d been dreaming about Hydra. “It’s okay, love. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She scooted over, looking at him imploringly.

“Dollface?”

“Please, Steven?” she pulled the thin sheets away.

He glanced at the space behind her.

Her IV was in her other arm, so there was little chance of him causing issues with it, and, honestly, he wanted to hold her.

Toeing off his boots, he climbed in behind her, tucking his knees up in the space created, while wrapping his arm around her torso. Sliding his other arm beneath her pillow, he kissed the crown of her head. “Go back to sleep, Kennedy.”

She nodded slowly, sighing and relaxing. “You saved me tonight. Guess that means we’re even.”

He hummed, content. “Only fair. Besides, couldn’t let some rank ol’ bull beat on my girl.”

“Love you, Steven,” she sighed softly, drifting on exhaustion and the drugs they’d given her to help with the headache.

“I love you too, Kennedy,” he whispered against her hair.

When the nurse came in to check on them in the dimly lit room, she sighed happily, uncaring if Captain Rogers was breaking hospital rules by being in Dr. Jones’ bed.

It was the most adorable thing she’d ever seen.

Walking quietly away, she gave a giddy grin. It seemed Captain America was head over heels for a Canadian girl. How crazy was that?

***

Waking early the next morning, Steve gritted his teeth together. He was getting really unhappy with finding himself alone in bed. Usually, he woke to find his arms wrapped over her, his head on her abdomen, his leg thrown over hers. But a couple of times now, he’d woken to an empty bed.

She’d left his side, and he hadn’t noticed.

It frustrated and annoyed him. At least this time he could hear the shower running in the adjoining bathroom. He wouldn’t have to go hunt her down.

Climbing from the hospital bed, he stretched the kinks from his muscles as he walked toward the door, grabbing up his bag on the way by. Finding the bathroom unlocked, he walked in silently to see her standing with her back to the door beneath the spray.

Shutting the door just as quietly, he set down his stuff, stripped off his clothes and stepped in behind her. When he took her by the waist she jumped so hard, he had to grab her rather firmly to keep her from falling in the shower. “Easy, doll. It’s just me.”

“You scared the crap out of me, Steven!” she barked, wiping the water out of her eyes.

Pulling her back into his chest, he rumbled a chuckle, loving the way her wet skin felt against his. “Sorry.”

She laughed. “Now you sound Canadian.”

Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, he licked at the water on her skin. “You cleared to be up, Kennedy?”

“Doctor, Steven. I cleared myself.” She glanced at him over her shoulder.

Humming softly, he murmured against her ear as he wrapped his arms around her waist, “How do you keep sneaking out of bed without waking me?”

All the colour drained from her face.

“Kennedy?” he asked, feeling the tremor race through her body.

Her head dropped, face turning away.

He gritted his teeth together. Before she could stop him, he turned her to face him, gripping her tightly. “I think it’s time you told me everything about Carl,” he stated.

“Steven, please, I don’t-”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “I love you, Kennedy, but when things he did in the past cause you to sneak out of my bed in the morning, I think I have a right to know how bad it got.”

When her eyes closed, pain washing across her face, he almost regretted asking. Instead of backing down, he picked up the bottle labelled shampoo and poured out a generous handful which he slowly worked into her hair.

It turned out Carl hadn’t just punched Kennedy. He’d had a piece of chain from a lead shank wrapped around his fist. It was why she went down so hard and how he’d managed to actually make her bleed.

So he massaged gently, getting the blood out, careful of the stitches they’d put in her scalp. “Talk to me, doll face.”

Sighing, Kennedy set her hands on his ribs. “I was only in Uni about two months when I first met Carl. I’d turned seventeen by then, was focused on learning and staying tops in all my classes. He was in a few of them, and when, suddenly, he started paying me attention I was… flattered. Still, I had a heavy workload, wasn’t looking for a relationship, but he was persistent. Flowers, gifts, dinners out. I fell for it like a naive fool, believed him when he told me how much he admired me, how impressed he was by my dedication. It only took six weeks for him to convince me to give up my dorm and move in with him. Six more for him to alienate me from my friends, and another three to have me closing out my family.” She trembled a second time.

Reaching past her, Steve made the water a little warmer. “Tilt your head back, baby,” he said softly, rinsing the soap from her hair when she did. “What happened next?”

“It started with little things. I’d break a glass, and he’d call me clumsy, tell me to use plastic because I couldn’t be trusted with nice things. Bang my hip on the counter because our apartment was tiny, get told if I weren’t so fat I would fit better. Stopped eating after that, dropped weight, was still _chunky_. Initiate… initiate sex… be called a whore… get talked to like one…” she whispered, voice fading.

“Kennedy,” Steve made his voice stay calm, perfectly level, even though he was seething on the inside as he reached for the conditioner. “Did he ever rape you?”

“I…” Her hands came off his ribs, fell to her sides.

Steve collected them and brought them to his chest, pressed them to his heart, held them there until he was sure they would stay put. Picking up the conditioner again, he started the process of her hair a second time. “Tell me,” he encouraged her quietly.

“It took a long time. Years of snide comments and mental games, mixed in with gifts and praise, to get to the point where I didn’t recognize myself anymore. I honestly don’t know how I managed to cram all my course into five years, finish everything early, and graduate with top marks. I think I knew subconsciously graduating early was the only way to escape him after he alienated me from everyone. I got good at getting up without making noise. I did it to study, do my papers and things. He would get… angry if I woke him. Now it’s just a… a habit. I don’t even think about it anymore.”

He tilted her chin up and back so he could rinse her hair a second time. “What finally made you leave?”

Her eyes slammed closed, hands becoming fists over his heart. “I told him I was going home after graduation. I hadn’t seen my family more than a handful of times in five years. I was going home for the summer.” Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him. “It was the one, and only time he hit me.”

“Kennedy.” He took her by the shoulders.

“You have to understand, Steven, there were a lot of threats, waving belts, smacks with newspapers or magazines, degrading things, but he’d never _actually_ raised a hand to me before. Everything was because I deserved it, that’s what he’d say. I deserved it. I was being punished, reprimanded for being stupid. If I weren’t so stupid, he wouldn’t have to do these things. But that time… I never even saw it coming.” She breathed out, inhaled hard and continued, “He called me stupid, he always called me stupid. Told me I was his to do with as he pleased. His whore, his piece of ass, and I wasn’t going anywhere. Then, he took the only thing I was good for, telling me the entire time that I was fat, ugly, a horrible lay, and no one would ever love me. He was the only one who would ever want me.”

Horror filled him, rage soon burned that to ash, but the tears which fell down Kennedy’s face kept him right where he was. “Baby,” he whispered, gently cupping her face.

Her hands moved to his wrists. “I let him think he’d cowed me, stayed meek and quiet. I went to graduation three days later with the best makeup job of my life, walked across the stage, received my diploma, and disappeared. I got on a bus, sent Carl a text message saying it was over, and if he ever came after me I would have him arrested for assault. Two weeks later I showed up at home, knowing if they saw the bruise on my face no one would stop the boys and dad from killing Carl. I couldn’t do that to them, not when it was my mistake. That was five years ago.” Her breath hitched on a sob.

Drawing her in, Steve wrapped her up tight in his arms, holding her as she shook and cried. He’d never wanted to kill someone as badly as he wanted to kill the asshole who’d done this to his sweet Kennedy. “You did so good, sweetheart, getting away from him. So good. I’m so proud of you,” he murmured into her hair.

“I let do that to me. I let him pick me apart. I let him break me, Steven,” she whimpered.

“No, baby, you didn’t. You know better. He preyed on you because you’re sweet and kind and he thought he could. But you’re not broken. Someone broken wouldn’t have had the courage you did to walk away from everything and get on the bus. You, Kennedy Marie Jones, are the most amazing, _inspiring_ woman I’ve ever met.” Kissing her on the forehead, he turned the water off, drew her from the shower and wrapped her in a towel.

“I never want to be that person again. The one who felt small and useless. Standing before him in the hallway at the Roadhouse was the first time in nearly seven years I didn’t feel like that girl.” Clutching the towel with one hand, she reached her other hand out, laid it against his cheek. “You did that.”

When he made to protest, she placed her fingers on his lips. “It’s because of you, how you make me feel about myself, how you look at me, the way you love me. I grabbed ahold of a piece of _Cap’s_ confidence that night and told him he was nothing. I could do that… because of you, Steven.”

Wet emeralds gleamed up at him.

Steve was done, so completely and entirely hers, he felt it right to the bones. Right then and there, he vowed to himself someday he was going to marry this woman. “You, Kennedy, are a miracle.” Gently he took her face between his palms and kissed her with all the love he could muster.

She choked on another soft sob, before letting go of her towel to wrap both arms around his neck. “Nat knows a little, but only you and… and mom know everything.”

Holding her close, he felt the rage roar to life inside him. “S’okay, doll face. He’s never gonna hurt you again. No one’s ever going to hurt you again.”

“Can we go home?” she asked softly. “Back to New York, home? I miss my lab. People don’t try to kill me in my lab.”

He could tell she was trying to make a joke. It fell a little flat, but he chuckled anyway. “Yah, love. We can go home.” Kissing the crown of her head, he let her go long enough to dry off and put his jeans back on. They were his regular, more relaxed fit, but he noted her eyes still drifted down to linger on his backside. Turning back to her, he could see the headache brewing, both from the knock to the head and the emotionally draining moment she’d just had. “It’s still early, doll. Let’s put you back to bed for a while, yeah?”

When she didn’t even put up a token protest, he knew her head hurt more than she was letting on. The hospital gown, though, made her look so frail, so sickly, he couldn’t stand it, and dug through his bag for the brown, blue, and white checked button-up shirt he often wore. The cotton was soft, a little thin from numerous washings, but when he wrapped her up in it, it fell well below mid-thigh, a perfectly acceptable nightdress. Rolling up the sleeves, he pressed a gentle kiss to the palm of each of her hands.

Her smile was soft but tired, and her skin was pale.

Steve picked her off her feet, walking out into the room with his best girl, taking her back to the bed they’d shared. The silence of the room remained undisturbed, a private one what with his name attached to her own, a perk he was happy to accept. Laying her gently down, he brushed the damp hair from her face. “Sleep, baby. I’ll be right here with you.”

She nodded, her eyes already drifting shut.

Returning to the washroom, he tugged on a shirt before digging his phone from his pocket to call Maria. “Yeah,” he said, as she asked questions. “Doc’s going to be fine. Listen, you bring my suit?” Another round of questions had him gritting his teeth. “Yes or no, Agent Hill.” A slow smile broke upon his lips. “Good. Bring it with you. Come now.” He hung up before she could ask any more questions.

Again he brought the phone to his ear. “Buck?”

“Steve? Is it Kenny?” he asked, concern filling his voice.

“In a way. Suit up.” He’d a called Nat in too, but she’d chosen to stay with Jonas and Matt.

“Steve?”

“I need to give a statement to the police.”

“Thought you were going to do that today at the hospital.”

“Plans changed,” he growled. “We’re paying _Carl_ a visit.”

There was a beat of silence before he asked, “Do I need an untraceable weapon?”

“Haven’t decided yet.”

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice contained a deadly growl.

Grinding his teeth together, Steve spat out, “He _hurt her_ , Buck. He… he…” the words tasted foul as he spat them out, “ _forced her_! It’s the reason why she ran.”

Something shattered in the background. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

The line went dead, and Steve forced his hand to unclench from around his phone before he busted it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angry Steve, violence, fluff, stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one)

## Chapter Fifteen

* * *

Maria walked into the room with Bucky on her heels, and Steve got to his feet.

Kennedy was curled on her side, sleeping deeply.

He hoped she’d stay that way until he got back, and held up his hand when Maria made to speak. Motioning them both out in the hall, he followed them, quietly shutting the door. “My suit?”

“Cap,” she sighed when his face hardened. “It’s in the van. You do realize you don’t have any authority here, right?”

“Don’t need authority to go make my statement, Maria,” Steve said with complete innocence.

“But you need your suit? Really, Cap? And with him looking like _death on the march_ ,” she pointed at Bucky in his signature one sleeved jacket and combat gear, “do you think I’m stupid?”

Bucky snorted. “I like that. Death on the march. Sounds like I should have my own theme song. I want one like Darth Vader.”

“No, Agent Hill. I don’t think you’re stupid,” Steve fought down a snicker, trying not to smirk at Bucky. “I’m just going to make a statement.”

“Don’t you mean _your_ statement?” she said before holding up her hand. “You know what? The less I know, the better. Plausible deniability and all that bullshit.”

“You’ll look after Kennedy, stay with her till I get back?” he asked, though they both knew it was far closer to an order hedged as a question.

“I have five agents on this floor I’d trust with my life, Steve. You’ve got my word.” She nodded, turning toward Kennedy’s door.

“Maria,” he stopped her with a hand on her elbow. “She has nightmares, about Hydra.”

The woman’s eyes softened. “I’ll look after her, Steve. You go do… whatever this is.” She wiggled her fingers at him and walked into Kennedy’s room.

Taking a last long look at the door, Steve turned to Bucky. “Let’s go.”

***

Stepping out of the van in full gear, Steve stood tall and placed his shield on his back. One of Hill’s agents had driven, leaving both he and Bucky free to go over the file Natasha had compiled. When Maria had said his suit was in the van, he hadn’t expected ‘the van’ to be a fully geared operations vehicle.

He should have. It was Maria after all, and she was nothing if not prepared. At least it had made suiting up easier, and into the suit he preferred. The SHIELD created Strike Stealth suit was lightweight and flexible, giving him an advantage in a fight, not that he was expecting one, but, the darkness of it suited his mood.

Leaving the helmet in the van, he and Bucky strode toward the doors of the police station, noting the stares and whispers, the gasps and shocked cries of excitement. It was nothing new, but with the scowl on his face, and the one which graced Bucky’s, it cleared a path far faster than words ever could have.

The file courtesy of Nat had been enlightening and downright disturbing. As soon as she’d given her statement to police and seen Kennedy was alright, she’d gone full Black Widow, drawing on all her training to get into Carl’s apartment without tipping off the police, as well as pulling in every bit of information she could compile about Dr. Carl Stephenson.

Carl had pictures, tons of pictures. Walls of pictures of Kennedy. Most were from the two years she’d worked here in Canada before signing on with Stark, but the man had been stalking her for years. He was quite clearly obsessed, and from the look of his place, Nat figured he hadn’t taken her rejection well.

It had been utterly destroyed. Everything was broken and shattered.

The man had been spiralling downward this past week as more pictures of Kennedy had been found. From the rodeo, many of them including Steve. His image in each had been burned or scribbled on in red marker.

Evidently, Carl disliked him.

Steve didn’t _fudging_ care.

Carl had been signing on as the Doctor for CFR for the past four years, something Steve was relatively certain had been done to be around should Kennedy make an appearance with her family as he couldn't get to her otherwise.

Steve could only be thankful she hadn’t had the wherewithal to do so until now.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Carl might have done had she shown up without their protection.

Clearly, the man was crazy. But it wasn’t an excuse for laying hands on Kennedy. Not this week. Not five years ago.

Striding in the door, he went straight to the desk. “Ma’am,” he said to the officer behind it. “There is a Dr. Carl Stephenson in holding at this location. I’d very much like to have a word with him.”

“Cap… Captain America!” she gasped, eyes wide. “I’ll… I’ll need to get the arresting officers up here, and clear things with my Captain.”

“You do what needs doing.” He nodded, moving to one side with Bucky to wait.

It didn’t take long.

“Captain Rogers. Sergeant Barnes. We were expecting to meet you later at the hospital,” the Detective in charge, one Robert Tucci said, holding out his hand, currently sans partner.

Steve shook the offered hand. They’d spoken briefly when Tucci and his partner had asked Kennedy questions the previous evening, but he’d shut them down quickly when her meds had kicked in and wasn’t about to be moved from her side to give his own statement. “As we’re going to need to speak to Dr. Stephenson, this simplified things.”

Freezing for a moment, Tucci’s smile turned guarded as he shook Bucky’s hand. “Now, Captain. You know I can’t let you do that.”

“This has nothing to do with your investigation, Detective, but an ongoing SHIELD matter in regards to a project Dr. Jones is part of. We simply need to ascertain this assault on her had nothing to do with that,” he lied with the ease of Natasha for once. There was no way on God's green earth he was letting them stonewall him. “I can have Fury, the director of SHIELD, confirm our request should it be needed.”

“That won’t be necessary, Captain.”

Turning his head, Steve nodded to the woman in the three-piece suit.

Hair swept up and back, her dark eyes held a wealth of knowing.

“Captain Clark.” He knew her from Nat's file as well.

She nodded back, holding out her hand. “I had planned to join my detectives when they went to the hospital later this morning to check on Dr. Jones myself. How is she doing?”

“She’ll recover, ma’am.” He shook the surprisingly strong grip.

“I can’t begin to imagine what this must have been like for her, or you for that matter. A little downtime nearly turns tragic. It’s good to hear she’ll recover. Please, my office before they bring the doctor up.” She sent a look to Tucci who moved off to have Stephenson brought to an interview room and motioned toward the doorway she’d come out off.

Glancing at Buck, Steve headed after the Captain. Past the public areas, he took in the desks and holding spaces, the interview rooms and offices, along with all the watching eyes as he and Bucky followed the Captain into her office.

She shut the door tightly. “Let’s cut the crap here, Captain. There is no SHIELD correlation to why you’re here, is there?”

“No ma’am,” he said, unwilling to lie a second time when she had asked him straight out.

“Steve,” Bucky sighed, shaking his head.

“I appreciate your honesty, Captain. I’m sure you can understand my hesitation to leave the two of you alone in a room with Dr. Stephenson.”

“I assure you, ma’am, if we wanted Stephenson dead, he’d already be that way.”

“Bucky,” Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What? It’s the truth!” Bucky huffed, crossing his arms.

Clark chuckled softly. “I always wondered how much of those old film reels were real and what was an act for the camera. It was all real, wasn’t it?”

Steve nodded. “Buck’s been my best friend, hell, my brother since we were kids.”

“I’ll admit to being a fan, Captain, Sergeant. It’s really the only reason I don’t kick both your ass out of my precinct and inform your director of this blatant breach of protocol.”

Chuckling, Bucky smirked at Steve. “Least she knew who you were. Guess not all Canadians are as clueless as Kennedy.”

“Shut up, jerk,” Steve huffed, feeling the red flare in his cheeks.

“Punk.”

Clark blinked for a moment before a wry smile crossed her lips. “Dr. Jones didn’t know who you were when you met?”

“She didn’t have a clue who he was till about two weeks ago though they’ve been dating for months,” Bucky snickered.

A shocked burst of laughter escaped Clark’s lips before she cleared her throat. “How… refreshing that must have been,” she snickered. “Alright, Captain. The truth. Why are you here really?”

“I have something to say to Dr. Stephenson.”

“And that would be?”

“For Stephenson’s ears alone.”

Her face blanked and jaw tightened. “Then I’m sorry, Cap. I can’t let you see him.”

Drawing himself up, Steve let the anger he’d been doing his best to control fill him. “Ma’am, I intend to speak with him. I’d prefer that be with your permission. If I have to do so without it…” he shrugged.

“Is that a threat, Captain?” she asked softly.

“No, ma’am. It’s a promise.”

She studied him for a long moment before looking to Bucky. What she saw on his face, Steve didn’t know, but it made her sigh. “I’d rather not _start_ something that can be avoided, Captain. We’re not unreasonable people.”

Again Bucky snorted. “Canadians.”

She glared at him before continuing. “I will give you five minutes as professional courtesy. Only five, and he damn well better come out looking the same way he went in.”

“More than I need, ma’am.”

“You’d best give Tucci your statements _before_ you get in the room with Dr. Stephenson. I suspect you’ll want to be leaving in a hurry once you’re finished. And as he is currently without representation, I don’t see a point in filming things as nothing he will say to you will be admissible.”

Steve flashed a grin. “I believe our statements have already been emailed to your Detectives, Captain Clark.”

“Well, aren’t you efficient, Captain Rogers.”

“Want to get everything expedited. Kennedy desires to go home. I intend to make that happen.”

A genuine smile filled her face. “Who would have ever guessed Captain America would fall in love with a Canadian girl.”

“You only need to know Kennedy a few minutes to figure out why that is,” Steve said.

“He’s stupidly in love with her,” Bucky chuckled. “Thanks, doll face, for bending the rules.”

Clark’s brow arched with his words. “You’re welcome, soldier, but call me doll face again, and I’ll kick your ass.”

“Ooh, feisty,” he said, smirking at Steve. “Maybe it is a Canadian thing.”

“Out! Out of my office.” Rolling her eyes, Clark shooed them both out the door. “Tucci!” she bellowed.

“Captain?” the Detective poked his head around the corner.

“Get it done. Five minutes.” She glanced up at him and spoke softly. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“No, ma’am,” Steve promised, striding down the hall toward Tucci.

The detective didn’t look all that happy about what was about to occur, but he also wasn’t going to go against a direct order.

Steve only nodded politely as the man led him to a door.

“Captain Rogers, you’ve got five minutes.”

Walking into the room, Steve took in the space.

A one-way mirror filled the wall across from Carl, but there were no other windows, only a table and chairs. Looking up at the camera in the corner, he shifted his gaze from it to the glass and back, watching as the blinking red light went out. Again, he nodded toward the glass, well aware the Captain was keeping her word. He had every intention of keeping his. He wasn't going to touch _Carl._

Bucky stayed in the corner near the door, arms crossed, looking menacing as per usual. The gleam of pure hatred on his face was hard to miss, as was the way he kept flexing his metal hand.

Finally turning his attention to the man at the table, handcuffed to it, Steve pulled out the chair across from him, spinning it so he could straddle it without having to remove his shield. “You know who I am?”

Carl’s eyes were rather big before his face closed down. “You're Captain fucking America. Big deal.”

“You know who _he_ is?” Steve nodded toward Bucky.

“So? You’ve got no jurisdiction here. You can’t do shit to me,” he snorted, showing his stupid.

Leaning on the back of the chair, it creaked slightly beneath Steve’s weight. “You’d best hope and pray you spend a _long time_ in jail Stephenson. A very long time,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Kennedy’s told me everything. All the fucked up shit you pulled in the past, I know _everything_!”

“Little whore’s telling tales now, is she? She always was such a fuck up,” he sneered.

Steve’s fist came down on the table, denting a rather large impression in the metal.

Bucky’s hand latched around the doorknob, holding it shut with a lazy ease when the banging and shouting started.

Getting to his feet, Steve kicked the chair out of the way, leaned across the table, looming over Carl, causing him to lean back as far as the cuffs would allow. “You’d best _pray_ they lock you up and throw away the key cause we’ll be waiting for you when you get out. No one, absolutely _no one_ touches Kennedy and gets away with it!” Latching a hand in his shirt, Steve yanked Carl forward, up and out of his chair. “She’s _my girl_ , you get me?”

Nodding frantically, Carl blubbered, “Please don’t kill me!”

It was just as Steve assumed. A bully, but only to those he knew were weaker than him. “You’ll tell the police everything. The stalking, the pictures, and confess to attempting to kill Kennedy.”

“Yes! I swear!” The sour scent of urine filled the air.

Nose wrinkling in disgust, Steve reached down and ripped the hook Carl’s cuffs were attached to out of the table. Shoving the man back into his chair, Steve skidded it and him out of the way, right back into the wall. “You’ll never try and contact Kennedy again. You won’t look for her. You won’t research her. You won’t even _think_ of her, or I swear I’ll know. And so help me, Stephenson, if I even get a _whiff_ of a rumour you’ve been doing this shit, stalkin’ another woman,” he pulled the shield from his back.

It went on his arm with practiced ease, a fluid, grace-filled move which bespoke his comfort with the item. Then, he drove it with all his strength through the table, shearing the metal top right in half.

It fell to pieces at his feet with a rather loud bang.

Glaring at Carl, Steve placed the shield back on his back. “Point taken, Stephenson?”

More frantic nodding commenced.

Stepping into the wreckage, he stood tall and intimidating when he said, “Me you’ll see coming. Him?” he motioned to Bucky. “Not so much. Be a good citizen, Carl, or I guarantee you’ll see one of us again.”

The man was blubbering in a pool of his own piss when Steve turned on his heel and nodded to Bucky.

Releasing the door, Bucky caught it when it flew open and stepped out of the way. “Detective. Looks like we’re done.” He smirked at Tucci who'd tumble through the door as he walked out of the room.

Stalking out after him, Steve swept a glare at all the drawn weapons. “Officers. You’re doing an exceptional job. Captain.” He nodded to Clark. “There isn’t a scratch on your prisoner, though I apologize for the smell. Feel free to bill me for the table.”

“Now just a damn minute!” Tucci barked. “You can’t just come in here like you own the place-”

“Detective!” barked Clark. “Shut your pie hole.”

He did so, but Steve could tell he wasn’t happy about it. Leaning toward Clark, he asked, “This going to cause you grief?”

She snorted. “If it does I’ll deal. What did they expect me to do? Say _no_ to the first Avenger?” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “I will be billing you for the table though.”

“Send it to Stark. I’ll see it’s taken care of.”

A grin twitched her lips. “Will do. Was nice seeing you in action, Cap.”

“Ma’am.” He nodded. “Let’s go, Buck.”

On his way by, Bucky tilted his head to Clark. “Dollface,” he said quietly, adding a wink.

She gritted her teeth. “Sergeant,” she hissed. “The warning stands.”

“Damn, she is like the Doc!” Bucky chuckled.

“I believe Kennedy threatened to castrate you, not kick your ass.” Steve grinned when a burst of laughter snorted from Clark and dragged Bucky out the door.

They stepped outside into flashing lights and shouting, finding the steps swarming with reporters.

_Shit._

Sighing silently, Steve did his duty and answered questions.

***

“In news which has both shocked and elated Canadians across the country, it appears Captain Steve Rogers, the first Avenger, Captain America himself, has fallen for a Canadian girl!”

Such were the first words Kennedy heard when she woke the second time.

“Indeed, Kent. The news has rocked fans around the globe, but here at home, the people we’ve spoken to couldn’t be more pleased with this turn of events. Dr. Kennedy Jones, renowned researcher, has been working to unravel the secrets of the super soldier serum. We can only imagine it was how she met Captain Rogers, and assume their romance blossomed from there.”

Snorting softly, Kennedy rolled to her back. Opening her eyes, she chuckled at the news team. “Not quite but sure.”

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Jolting, Kennedy glanced to the right where Maria sat reading a magazine. “Agent Hill?”

Lifting the remote, she turned the TV down. “Maria is fine, Doc.”

“Kennedy is good. Where’s Steven?” she asked.

He’d said he would be there.

Something flashed in Maria’s eyes. “He’ll be back. Went to give his statement.”

“Oh.” Pushing herself up, Kennedy pressed her fingers to her temple. The headache was better, but it still throbbed when she moved too fast. “I hate having a concussion,” she groaned.

“Suffer many of those?”

“Between horses and hockey? Yeah, a few,” Kennedy chuckled, glancing back to the TV. “Oh!” Her eyes widened. “That’s Steven!”

Maria’s head whipped to the TV. “Shit,” she hissed softly, turning it back up.

“On behalf of myself and the Avengers, I’d like to thank the Edmonton police department for their quick and decisive action in this matter. They have been most accommodating and professional.”

“Cap! Is there a reason you’re suited-up?” one reporter called out.

“Professional courtesy,” Steven answered.

“How long have you and Dr. Jones been together?” called another.

“A while,” Steve chuckled as Bucky did.

“Is Dr. Jones going to be alright?”

“Kennedy is recovering as we speak.” His smile softened.

“Did you see her ex while you were in there?”

“Thank you for your questions and concern, but I’d like to get back to my girl now.” Waving, he and Bucky simply moved through the reporters, stopping twice to sign autographs for a couple of small children, before getting in the van.

“Well, there you have it…” the sound muted a second time.

“Better than expected,” Maria muttered.

“He… he went to the station to give his statement?” Kennedy whispered, feeling suddenly light-headed.

“Yeah, I did.”

Standing in the doorway, fully kitted out in his Cap gear, Kennedy felt her IQ points drop as her brain fried. “Oh… wow. I see what all the fuss is about now.”

Steve chuckled, striding across the room to sit on the edge of her bed. “Thanks, Maria.”

“Cap. Didn’t get yourself into trouble?” she asked.

“None whatsoever,” he said with a grin.

“Uh huh.” She rolled her eyes as she got to her feet. “A likely story. I’ll go drag it out of Barnes.”

When the door clicked shut, Kennedy reached out to touch the silver star and stripes across Steven’s chest. “Wow.”

“You said that already, doll.” His face was a little smug. “Thought you’d seen pictures?”

“Different in person. You look… intimidating.” Shifting to her knees, Kennedy ran her fingers over the planes and angles of the suit.

Steve closed his hands around her hips, drawing her forward to straddle his thigh. “How you feeling, baby?”

“Like I got punched in the head, Steven,” she snorted, a smile tugging her lips.

Stroking his hands down her back, he held her close. “You want to get out of here?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him gently. The soft nature of the kiss turned her heart over. When she finally broke it, her arms had wrapped behind his neck. “Did you threaten Carl?”

“Would it upset you if I had?” he asked.

Resting her head on his shoulder, face tucked against his throat, she sighed. “Would it make me a horrible person if I said no?”

“Definitely not.”

“Then no.” Smiling, she sucked a kiss against his pulse. “Just how do you get _out_ of your suit, Steven?”

“Once we’re somewhere more private, I’ll show you,” he growled, taking a firm grip on her ass.

“Oh, Captain!” she gasped, laughing when he buried his face in her throat and bit gently at her.

“Minx,” he grumbled. “Let’s go home.”


	16. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing, Pure FLUFF, stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one)

## Epilogue 

* * *

As Kennedy stood anxiously awaiting the test results in her lab, she did the math. Officially she and Steven had been together for six months by her count.

Steven counted from far sooner than she did, going all the way back to the weeks leading up to him kissing her in the kitchen at the lab, but she refused to count that as _dating_ when she’d been so incredibly clueless to the fact of him even liking her in that way.

Returning home to New York after CFR had proved both trying and satisfying.

Trying in that Steven had insisted she move in with him. Trying in that Tony had already seen it done without her say so. Trying in that whenever she turned around, she was having _visitors_ show up in her lab. It was highly frustrating.

Until the day she’d turned to yell at whomever it was who felt it perfectly acceptable to simply walk into her lab without invitation, only to discover the person was Bruce Banner.

Out of all the Avengers, he was the only one she hadn’t met by that point.

Afterward, Steven had teased her endlessly because she’d fangirled a little over meeting Bruce, but he was someone she admired greatly. To find out Bruce also admired her work had been thrilling.

Then, Bucky had casually commented, “Least she knew who he was,” which had shut Steven right up.

The satisfaction came when the newness of it all had settled into a routine. She still got regular visitors, but she’d learned to work around them. Now that she’d broken the secrets of the serum, she’d begun working toward using the parts she could for MS research. Her days were filled with new and exciting discoveries, while her nights were filled with passion and love.

When he wasn’t working, Steven would often show up at her door, dragging her out of her lab when she’d worked too late again. He always made leaving worth her while. The heat and fire of their relationship hadn’t dimmed at all. It seemed only to grow stronger with each passing day. As he’d said, they continued to light each other up.

She’d never felt more loved, more cherished than she did when she was with him.

His love simply… _overflowed_.

She’d found a second home, a second family, in the Avengers team. They’d made her a part of them, even if she never used her powers. They all knew she could, but no one ever asked or pushed her into anything. For that, she was grateful.

Hydra was still a concern, but with her being practically tower-bound, something she had no issue with, she didn’t worry too much about them. Anytime she wanted to go to the park to clear her mind or stretch her legs, one of the team or a couple of agents went with her. Add to that Natasha’s insistence on teaching her _things_ , and Kennedy was getting regular exercise.

Did she grumble about it? Yes, she did. Did she still go? Yes, she did.

It was Natasha, a woman who, like Wanda, had become a close friend very quickly. Nat wanted her to learn, wanted to teach her, so Kennedy went along with it. Besides, it was kind of fun and the added exercise made up for the excessive amount of poutine they all ate.

It was probably a good thing her family had agreed to the deal offered them by Fury. It made it easier to have coffee, and other Canadian foodstuffs brought back to the tower.

Tim Horton’s coffee was now a mainstay in the Avengers kitchen, Tony enjoying it so much, he was making noise about adding a Tim Hortons location to the ground floor.

Kennedy only shook her head, wondering why she'd ever been afraid of Tony.

The man could be all kinds of ridiculous.

And, when Thor had discovered the all dressed potato chips, well, her entire stash had been depleted in three days.

But today, for the first time in months, Kennedy stood nervously twisting her hands together. She was worried, a little bit scared, and it wasn't a feeling she’d had within these walls in a long time.

Steven had been gone for a week or so, off on a mission with Sam and Wanda. When he was gone, she often spent long hours in the lab, disliking going to bed without him. So it hadn’t really surprised her when she’d come down with the flu.

Not sleeping or eating correctly, it was kind of bound to happen. Except the stomach flu didn’t happen every morning at the same time three days in a row.

When the computer pinged, informing her of her ready test results, Kennedy’s hand shook slightly as she pulled the page from the printer.

Her eyes scanned the results. Her breath hitched softly. “FRI… FRIDAY?” she called out, her lab AI getting a serious upgrade.

“Yes, Kennedy?”

“Where’s… Natasha?”

“Natasha is in the gym at current.”

“Can you tell her I need to see her… right now,” Kennedy gasped out, tears in her eyes, and worry in her heart.

She hadn't planned for this.

***

Sweeping down, Natasha took Bucky’s feet out from under him. “Getting slow, old man,” she snickered.

His arm lashed out, jerking her feet out from under her, so she landed on her back beside him on the mat. “Now who’s slow?”

“Bite me, Barnes,” she quipped, wincing a little.

“Natasha?”

“Yes, FRIDAY?” she said sitting up.

“Kennedy needs to see you right now. It appears to be urgent as she is quite upset.”

Nat and Bucky were both on their feet and moving toward the door at a jog. “Lab?” Nat called out.

“Yes.”

“Steve back yet?” Bucky asked the AI.

“Just. He’s debriefing.”

“Get him,” Bucky barked.

“Bucky, she asked for me,” Nat reminded him.

“Yeah, but she likely doesn’t know he’s back. If something’s wrong, you know she’s gonna want Steve.”

Getting on the elevator, they both headed for the seventh floor.

***

Sitting in the debriefing, Steve wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there and go find Kennedy.

The latest mission had been a shit storm. Everyone had gotten out alright, but barely. It had him longing to hold onto the good in his life. To seek comfort in the arms of Kennedy as he’d been doing for months.

Shortly after they'd returned to New York, the news had come in of Carl's confession and subsequent incarceration.

Not a peep had been leaked about his five minutes in interrogation with the man, not one single word. It impressed him enough to have the table replaced as well as a large anonymous donation made to the Edmonton police service for use in whichever charities they deemed worthy.

Kennedy had taken the news in stride, saying only she was happy it hadn't gone to trial. She didn't want to testify, nor have all her past dirty laundry aired. Though she'd looked at him curiously a few times, she'd never once out and out asked what he’d said to Carl.

He would have told her the truth if she had. He figured that was why she hadn't asked.

She had moved on from Carl, from that part of her life. She’d been through so much. Learning to use and control her powers. Her genius brain taking her to university early.

Carl and his depravity.

She was, literally, the _strongest_ woman he'd ever known.

He loved her with everything he was. Heart and soul, they’d belonged to her for months.

When the phone on the table in front of him went off, an update from FRIDAY, he frowned. Listening to Sam and Wanda relate what had gone down, he pulled it toward himself to read better.

The chair slammed into the wall behind him as he shoved to his feet and raced out of the room.

“What the fuck!?” bellowed Sam, nearly leaping from his skin.

“Something’s wrong with Kennedy!” Wanda gasped.

"Go," said Fury. "Keep me apprised."

On the twelfth floor, Steve didn’t bother waiting for the elevator. He slammed through the door to the stairwell at a dead run.

***

Pressing her palm to the plate, Natasha shoved open the door to Kennedy’s lab. “Kenny? What is it? What’s wrong?”

Not looking up, Kennedy held out the paper toward the woman. Breathing out a shaky breath, she pressed her other hand to her mouth.

Frowning, Nat took it, glancing at Bucky. Scanning what were clearly test results, she frowned. “What am I reading?”

“I’m… pregnant.”

“What?” Bucky gasped.

Her head whipped up. “Oh god! You brought Bucky!”

“You didn’t say come alone!” Nat shrieked. Darting forward, she grabbed Kennedy up in a tight hug. “Why aren’t you happy?”

“I don’t know how… Steven and I haven’t talked about kids… it was an accident… but… Nat… I want this,” her breath hitched.

Steve slammed through the door seconds later. “What is it? What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

“Oops…” Natasha breathed against Kennedy’s ear when the hug turned into a death grip. “It’s Barnes’ fault. He figured you'd want Steve.”

A panicky feeling filled her chest. She almost didn’t want to let go of Nat, but the choice was taken from her when the redhead pulled away. Teary-eyed, she looked to where the big blond, still in his Cap suit, stalked toward her, concern etched across his face. “Steven…”

“Is it your aunt? Did something happen to Joan?” he asked, taking her from Nat. “Do we need to go home?”

Her heart just fell to splat at his feet with how he was concerned for her family. “No, Steven it’s not them.” She pressed shaking hands to the red and white stripes over his abdomen.

He cupped her cheeks. “What is it? You’re kind of freaking me out, Kennedy? Are _you_ sick? Do I need to get Bruce?”

“For fuck sake, punk! Let her talk!” Bucky huffed.

She glanced his way, couldn’t help but see the excitement and joy on his face. She could only hope Steven would feel the same. “Steven… I’m…” She sank her teeth into her lip.

“What, baby? Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together,” he vowed, caressing her cheek as Sam and Wanda came through the door.

“Pregnant,” she whispered. Staring up into his bright blue eyes, she watched as first surprise-filled them, then shock morphed into a joy which had the breath she’d been holding rushing out.

“A baby? We’re having a baby?” he asked, voice full of awe.

She nodded, teeth worrying her lip.

***

Tilting his head back, Steve laughed before he shouted for joy. Wrapping her up tight in his arms, he swung around to face their four friends. “We’re having a baby!”

Sam and Wanda both cheered.

Dropping her carefully to her feet, Steve kissed the breath right out of her. “Wow,” Kennedy said once he let her go.

A stillness overcame him before he was tugging her toward the door, through the congratulations of the others. “Come on, Doc.” He sent a sharp glance Bucky’s way, his friend’s grin wide and filled with understanding as he held everyone back.

“Where are we going?” she asked, jogging a little to keep up.

“Upstairs.” Striding onto the elevator, he called out, “FRIDAY, living quarters. No stops.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Steven?” She still sounded worried.

Turning into her, Steve caged her against the wall. “Kennedy, I love you so much.” Leaning down, he kissed her softly, a gentle brushing of lips which had her sighing and melting into him.

Her arms went around his waist.

His hands went to her face and her hair as he worshiped at her mouth. Nipping and tugging her lip, he kissed and sipped, kept her distracted long enough to arrive on their floor. Drawing her from the elevator, he swept her up, making her gasp in the same way she always did, a pink flush filling her cheeks.

Her arms went around his neck. “Are you… really happy about this? We haven’t exactly talked about kids.”

“Kennedy.” He smiled down into her emerald eyes. “There's nothing that would make me happier than having a family with you.” Walking into their suite, he set her on the bed and went to rummage through a drawer.

Turning back, he said, “Well, maybe one thing would make me happier.”

“What?” she asked curiously.

Taking the three steps he needed, he knelt before her. “If my child’s mother was also my wife.” He held out the ring box he’d been hiding from her for months.

Her eyes were huge in her face when she gasped, “Steven?”

“They kept all my things for the museum and stuff, the historical significance and all that. So, when I went looking for it, SHIELD had a record and managed to help me get this back.” Lifting the lid, he revealed the antique gold ring, the setting a twisted band with three stones. “It was my mother’s. The outer stones were lost when I was a kid, so I had them replaced with emeralds because they reminded me of your eyes, but the diamond was surprisingly good quality, or so the jeweller said so it's original.”

Her mouth was hanging open, the shock evident. “How… how long have you had this?”

“I started looking for it at Christmas. Finally got my hands on it February. Got it back from the jeweller in March,” he said, a light flush on his cheeks.

“Three months?” she whispered. “You’ve had this… three months?”

He nodded. “I was… gonna ask you on the first of July.”

“Canada Day?” Her eyes filled with tears which trickled down her cheeks.

“Baby,” he brushed his thumb across her face. “Yeah. What better day to ask my Canadian girl to marry me?”

She threw herself at him, taking him over backwards to the floor.

Landing with an _oomph_ Steve asked, “Is that a yes?”

Nodding vigorously, Kennedy hiccupped as she cried, “Y-yes!”

Sitting them back up, he held her in his lap, plucked the ring from its box, and slipped it onto her finger.

“It fits,” she said, wiping at her face, holding out the hand with the ring.

“Of course it fits. What kind of master spy would I be if I couldn’t get my girl’s ring size right?” he chuckled before kissing her soundly. A hard banging at the door had him growling out, “What?”

“For fuck sake, punk! We’re dying out here! Did she say yes or what?” Bucky hollered through the door.

Laughing, Kennedy used his shoulders to get to her feet. “C’mon, Steven. We can finish this later.” She held out her hands.

He took them but heaved himself back to his feet with very little of her help. Before she could get too far away, he drew her back, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and laid his hand on her belly. “I love you,” he said softly, looking down into her sparkling eyes. “I love you both.”

“Oh god, Steven! As if I don’t have enough issues with the hormones. I’m going to be a sobbing mess you say stuff like that too often.”

“Every day, baby. I’ll tell you every day.” Kissing her deeply, he held tight to his family.

***

Hours later, after the entire team had gathered for an impromptu celebration, Steve was standing off to one side of the room, watching as Kennedy laughed up at something Thor had said.

She’d made the big man’s night when she’d told him on the sly how excited her father would be to finally get to meet the God of Thunder.

Thor had quite monopolized her time afterward, but Steve didn’t mind. The Asgardian even let her try to lift the hammer. It hadn't budged, but she shrugged it off with a laugh.

She _glowed_. Kennedy had never looked more beautiful than she did right now.

Tomorrow, they would be making a surprise trip to the ranch where they'd tell her family the good news. Hopefully, her daddy wouldn't punch him in the mouth for doing things a little backward. After all, he'd already asked for Jonas's blessing when they'd gone up at Easter and gotten a resounding yes.

“You keep staring at her with that goofy ass grin I may just have to punch you,” Bucky said with a smirk as he sidled up beside Steve.

“Shut up, jerk,” Steve quipped, uncaring. He was too damn happy. “Where’d you disappear to?”

“Had to go get something.” Bucky dropped the small blue gift bag on the table beside Steve. “For you, punk.”

Frowning, Steve shook his head. “I don’t… for what?”

Crossing his arms, Bucky huffed, “Just fucking open it, Stevie.”

Eyeing Bucky, he tugged the card from the top and the box from inside. “Great wrapping job.”

“So help me, Steven…” he growled.

Chuckling, Steve ripped open the card, only to have to sit down rather hard on the barstool beside the table. “How?” he gasped softly, looking up at Buck in shock.

“Third Sunday in June is this weekend. Happy father’s day, Steve.”

The card with the picture of big boots and little boots read _for the father-to-be_. Scrubbing his hand over his mouth, Steve swallowed hard, fighting back the thick knot of emotion which had appeared in his throat.

“Open the box before you lose your shit, Cap,” Bucky muttered, his own eyes shining brightly.

Placing the card on the table, Steve lifted off the top of the box. Beneath the tissue paper was the tiniest of tiny clothes he’d ever seen. “Buck…” he forced past the lump.

“Not yet, punk. Take it out.” Buck’s voice was hoarse.

Lifting it out, amazed at how small the onesie looked in his hands, Steve turned it over. The half sob, half laugh exploded from him. A dark blue, the front read _My Daddy’s a Super Soldier,_ and his shield was printed bold as life beneath the writing. “How in the hell…?”

“Saw it a while ago. Guess they’re kind of a novelty thing, but in this case, it’s true.” His hand closed over Steve’s shoulder.

His hand closed reverently around the tiny piece of clothing. Jerking to his feet, he seized Bucky in a hug which would have crushed a normal man. “I’m gonna be a daddy.”

Bucky’s arms closed just as tight around Steve. “Congratulations, pal.”

Tears of happiness and joy slid down his face. “Thanks, Buck,” he said, pulling back and scrubbing a hand over his wet face. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

Bucky reached out and patted Steve firmly on the cheek, his grin wicked. “Just wait till the kid gets here, and you’re sleep deprived.”

Chuckling, Steve shrugged. “Don’t care. It’s my kid.” Turning his attention back to the room, he smiled at Kennedy as she made her way toward them. Poking Bucky in the ribs, he muttered, “Find a box of tissues. She’s going to bawl like crazy.”

Bucky was quick to make his exit in search of the required item.

“What’s going on over here with all the bromancing?” she asked, her smile cheeky.

“Wait for it.” He held up his hand, tucking the other behind his back.

“For?” Her brow arched as Bucky returned with the box of tissues.

“This.” He held up the tiny shirt.

Kennedy’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh… oh, Bucky.”

The former winter soldier thrust the box of tissues toward her. “Seemed appropriate.”

“So much!” she gave a watery laugh, going in for her own hug, clutching a handful of Kleenex. “Thank you, Bucky.”

Looking down at the tiny piece of clothing, Steve smiled. He’d gotten everything he’d ever wanted in the span of heartbeats. His Canadian girl was going to be his wife, they had a child on the way, and, when he looked up at the faces around him, he knew his team, his _family_ would do everything in their power to make damn sure his family, their family, stayed safe.

Whatever came next, they would face it… together.

**_\- The End -_**  


	17. A Canadian Girl Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A return to the world of Canadian Girl at Christmas, when Steve and Kennedy are expecting their first child.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: NSFW, childbirth, swearing, I’m a big sappy dork who loved them too much not to go back and do an update.

* * *

“What the hell are you doing on that horse!?” Bucky barked, striding across the frozen, snow-covered ground toward the paddock.

From the back of Kyle, Doctor Kennedy Jones now Rogers, frowned at the glowering man. “What’s it look like I’m doing?”

“You are eight months pregnant! Get off that horse!” Bucky stomped toward both her and Kyle.

The big buckskin’s ears pricked forward, his attention focused, having more than once played a round of _tag_ with both super soldiers.

Kennedy stroked his neck to keep him calm. “I’m perfectly fine, Bucky. Mom rode right to the end when she was pregnant with all of us.”

“Yeah, but she wasn’t carrying the son or daughter of Captain America. You know Steve will pitch a fit if he finds you out here.”

“Are you saying my brothers and I weren’t as precious?” she teased.

“The only _precious_ one of that bunch is you. Now are you getting down, or do I have to get you down?”

“One last walk around the arena? I was almost finished cooling him off when you barked at me. You can walk with us and hover like a mother hen to make sure I don’t fall off.” Kennedy bit her lip, looking at him with pleading eyes, effectively cutting off his protests.

“Fine,” he sighed, placing a hand on her knee.

He was a big sap, and she knew it. Knew exactly how to get around both him and Steven. She didn’t do it often enough to make them suspicious, but riding wasn’t something she was willing to give up even eight months pregnant with their first child.

The last year had been a whirlwind of happy accidents and changes, the most significant one her marriage to Steven Grant Rogers, Captain America, and leader of the Avengers. It had been… amusing to say the least when, on Father’s day weekend, they had returned to the ranch to announce not only were they getting married, but they were having a baby.

Her mother had laughed and hugged them both while her dad had teared up something fierce. Her brothers had been full of it when they’d gone the whole _you hurt our sister, we’ll hunt you down_ route. While Steven had looked suitably chastised, Kennedy had smacked them all around the ears.

The wedding had been planned with a speed which had made her head spin. Between Tony and her mother, Kennedy had been bombarded with texts, calls, and emails at all hours of the day. They’d decided to marry quickly, but still, Kennedy’s growing belly had appeared in the pictures taken in the high grass of the ranch’s sprawling fields beneath the August sky. Having few friends outside the team, Kennedy had asked if they could keep things small and have the outdoor wedding she’d imagined as a little girl.

More than willing to cater to her every whim, Steve had swiftly agreed, inviting only their immediate friends and family. It was all done so quickly, with such stealth, by the time the paparazzi found out, it was already over.

Still, the public clamoured for pictures, for information, for _proof_ , and Tony gave it to them. A full magazine spread of the Captain and the Canadian came out in glossy publication, reminding Mary - her mother - of the one which had been produced when Princess Diana had married Prince Charles.

The proceeds from the sales, which had been many, all went to an assortment of charities. Everything from MS research, to scholarships, to shelters for abused women. The wealth was spread around, and the public was happy. Especially the Canadian public who insisted Steve be made an honorary Canadian, ending with the Prime Minister issuing Steve a Canadian passport.

Not that he needed one.

Everyone said Kennedy had looked radiant in her lacy white gown, flowing from an empire waist to help mask a little the life growing between Steve and herself, but the speculation ran rampant, and by the time she’d really started to show, the word was out.

It made it impossible for Kennedy to go anywhere without needing a full detail, or at least two super soldiers, one on each arm, to keep people away. Some were happy, calling out well wishes, while others were jealous, cruel, and called her a gold digger, trapping the Captain by getting pregnant. With those people, she usually had to hold Steve and Bucky back. One time she’d forgotten about Natasha standing behind her until the blood exploded from the man’s nose.

Luckily, the majority were happy and anxiously awaiting the new arrival, almost with more enthusiasm than her and Steve. Almost.

When they’d chosen not to find out the sex, preferring to keep it a surprise, the betting had begun in earnest. She didn’t tell Steven about the fifty she’d slipped Sam, placing her own bet on sex and delivery date.

Sam had looked at her suspiciously, stating if she won he was going to cry foul, but Kennedy had only smiled sweetly and made him a bowl of poutine. It was an effective distraction.

It wasn’t that she _knew_ what would happen with their little super soldier bundle, but she had a hunch, a feeling, and had bet accordingly. Call it mother’s intuition, or just plain luck, she was pretty sure she knew just when the newest Avenger would make their appearance.

Returning her attention to Bucky as they made their way around the arena, Kennedy sighed and rubbed the heel of one hand over her low back.

“See! You need to get down!” Bucky’s hand was around Kyle’s reins, drawing the horse to a stop before Kennedy could protest.

“Buck, the riding is helping. My back hurts. It’s hurt for three months. It will hurt until this baby decides to make its appearance.”

He hummed in disbelief, eyes narrowed. “You got a whole month, doll. That baby doesn’t need to be making an appearance anytime soon.”

Kennedy gave Kyle a nudge with her heels. “The baby will arrive when the baby wants to.”

“Stop saying that!” Bucky huffed, his eyes very wide. “I’m not ready!”

She laughed and gave his shaggy hair a tug. “You don’t get a vote!”

“Steve’s not ready either!”

“Steven’s been ready since my Thanksgiving, and you know it.” Steven had, somewhere, found a shirt that said “Baby” with an arrow pointing straight down he loved when she wore. But every time she did, he would rush off and come back with the matching one which said simply “I helped.”

It was corny and just so adorable, Kennedy couldn’t help but laugh and hug him tight.

He was so excited. He’d read books and watched films. He’d taken to kneeling down so he could caress her belly and talk to the baby. She’d even woke up once in the night to find him singing softly to his overactive child.

That, more than anything, informed her she had a most special child. The baby kicked like a team of mules, and the only one who could get them to stop was Steven. His touch, his voice, sometimes just his presence in the room was enough to make the baby settle down.

As if thinking of him summoned him, a quintet flew overhead and landed on the far side of the house.

“You’re in shit now, doll face,” Bucky quipped.

“Am not." She pouted as Kyle made the final few steps to the gate.

Steve, appearing at a dead run through the snow around the corner of the house with the biggest scowl ever, said otherwise.

“What are you doing on that horse?”

She flinched beneath the sharpness of his words and bit her lower lip to keep it from quivering.

“Oh shit,” Bucky muttered. “No, no, no! No waterworks!”

She snuffled, but it was too late as the first hormone laced tear trickled down her cheek. “I was… only trying… to feel better,” she blubbered, hating herself for letting the emotions rule her. Tears were not something Kennedy enjoyed. They were like cheating when it came to these two, and she didn’t like that feeling. But, lately, especially when Steve was away for a while, she’d found it harder and harder to control them.

She heard Steve mumble, “Ah, shit,” but she was too busy trying to breathe back any more tears to pay attention.

“C’mere, doll face,” he said, reaching up to help her down. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“I… know,” she gasped, appreciating the assistance when Bucky helped her swing her leg over the saddle horn so she could slide down into Steve’s waiting arms.

“But you scared me being up there on Kyle like that, big as you are.” His hand slipped beneath her coat to rub over her belly.

“Riding helps the backache.” She didn’t notice the glare he sent Bucky, nor the helpless shrug Bucky gave back when he led Kyle away.

“Yeah?” he sighed, holding her close. “Anything else maybe a little less dangerous help the backache?”

“Baths,” she said before her chin wobbled again. “But I can’t get out of the tub!”

He tilted her chin up, a small smile playing with his lips. “Well, I’ll have to make sure and be around whenever you need to get out. Guess it’s a good thing I don’t have to go anywhere for the next few months.”

“Really?” she whispered, shock stealing her voice. “You’re staying?”

“Sweetheart, I’m yours till that little bundle of ours decides to make an appearance, and for as much time as I can swing after. Not even a Chitauri invasion could drag me away.”

“Steven, I love you, but if aliens fall from the sky, I’ll kick your ass for jinxing us.” Kennedy motioned him closer so she could kiss him, no longer able to meet him halfway. “Your child has been overly demanding while you’ve been gone.”

“Causing a ruckus, are they?” He dropped to his knees, lifted her coat and kissed her swollen belly. “Hey in there. You being a brat for your mama?”

“Not much sleep these past few days.”

He glanced up at her and tugged her jacket back down. “I’m sorry, doll face. If it hadn’t been that thing with the UN, I’d a declined.”

“Steven,” she cupped his face, “I get it. It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re home in time for Christmas. Dad swears there’s a blizzard coming.”

“Yeah? He got a feeling?”

She snorted out a laugh. “Nope. He’s watched the weather channel for three days straight but _claims_ he has a feeling!”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m here to keep you warm if the snow does set in.”

Kennedy settled into his side when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her toward the house. “Thank you for letting me come home for Christmas.” She and Bucky had made the trip a few days earlier while Steve had been away.

“You get whatever you want, Kennedy. That’s the deal.” He kissed the top of her head. “Except the riding,” he reiterated when she opened her mouth. “I will do whatever else it takes to help with the backache, so long as you stay off Kyle.”

“You and Bucky are both such worrisome old ladies,” she huffed, stomping snow from her boots as they walked into the kitchen. “Mom! Tell him I’m perfectly capable of riding while pregnant.”

“Steven, she’s perfectly capable of riding while pregnant,” Mary muttered, not bothering to turn around from where she was checking her roast.

“See?” Kennedy stuck her tongue out at him.

“But I really wish she wouldn’t,” Mary continued once she’d closed the oven door.

“MOM!” Kennedy gasped, feeling betrayed.

“What? I’m not allowed to worry about my grandbaby?” Mary quipped.

Kennedy huffed out a breath as she toed off her boots and shrugged out of the jacket Steve had unzipped. “Betrayal! I have been betrayed! How could you? My own mother!”

Mary pulled the dome off a cake platter. “I made coffee cake.”

Kennedy squealed. “You’re forgiven!” They’d forced her to cut back on coffee. Sugar. Poutine. Chips. Chocolate. They’d pretty much made her give up all the fun things, though Natasha was always up for sneaking her a sucker or an extra half cup of coffee when Kennedy was feeling particularly crabby. So, to be offered coffee cake, two of her favourite things combined, Kennedy was over the moon. “Do I have to share?”

“Kennedy!” Steve barked. “Yes, you have to share.”

She sat at the kitchen island and picked up a fork. “Don’t make me stab you with this, Rogers. My back aches. My feet hurt. Your child kicks like a mule. You took away ninety-five percent of my coffee, and I haven’t been sleeping well when the baby lets me sleep at all! I will do _serious_ and permanent damage if you take this from me!”

He looked helplessly toward her mother who was trying her darnedest not to laugh in his face.

Mary cut a wide wedge out of the cake and set it on a plate which she slid in front of Kennedy. “Stop being so dramatic, Kenny. Eat your cake.” She motioned toward an adjacent stool. “Sit, Steven. I’ll cut you a slice and one for Bucky.”

Kennedy eyed her mother with disapproval but was ignored.

“You gonna stab me if I eat this?” Steven asked Kennedy, a smirk on his lips.

“Maybe…” she mumbled around a mouthful of coffee cake goodness.

Steve leaned closer, tucked his face in the crook of her neck, and kissed her softly before scraping his teeth and fuzzy beard, a fairly new addition to his face, over her pulse point. “What about now?”

“Eat the cake, Steven. Then I need a nap.” She looked at him pointedly, ignoring the snort and giggle from her mother.

The tips of Steve’s ears turned pink, but he dove into his own dessert without comment.

Minutes later Bucky came through the door, and the two of them started in on what he’d spoken on at the UN. Finished with her snack, Kennedy listened for a few minutes, but the exercise and just being pregnant in general had tuckered her out.

She slipped from the stool and away up the stairs, only making it as far as the first landing before Steve caught up.

“You could have stayed. I really do need that nap.” Her small innuendo might need to be put on hold until after.

“Let’s see. Sit and talk with Buck, or go upstairs and snuggle my wife. Hm… whatever should I do?”

“Har har, Rogers. Still not funny.”

He chortled, there was no other word for the sound which came from his mouth.

By the time Kennedy reached the second-floor landing, she was panting. “This… used to be… easier,” she gasped, standing at the top of the stairs and holding onto the railing.

“You used to be smaller,” Steve said, earning him a glare.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

He rolled his eyes and swept her off her feet with just as much ease as always. “Then I won’t ask if you want a ride, I’ll just give you one.”

“Steven! I’m too big!” She smacked his shoulder. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

A snort of derision escaped him. “I once exploded out of a second story window and landed on a car after fighting off a horde of aliens. I’m _not_ going to hurt myself by packing my beautiful, sexy, amazing wife and mother-to-be of my child fifty feet to our bed.”

“Beautiful _and_ sexy? What are you up to, Steven?” She eyed him warily.

***

“Not a damn thing,” he said, kicking the door shut behind him and taking her to bed. It had been exchanged for a king some time ago, and the room redecorated in neutral colours. If it was a little _woodsy_ for his tastes, Steve didn’t say anything. At least the posters of movie stars and boy bands were gone.

He laid her down gently before working her jeans off her legs. The light sweater she had on wouldn’t bother her, but the stiffer cotton would get uncomfortable even with its elastic waistband. Then she would fidget until she finally got up and took them off, after fifteen minutes of fighting with herself.

He shucked his too, liking the feeling of her bare skin against his, even if they were just napping together, and crawled onto the bed with her. The thick duvet folded at the foot would keep off the chill, and he tugged it over them both before he wrapped his arms around her.

“Mm,” she hummed, snuggling back into him. “I missed how warm you are.”

“I think you keep me around because I run hot.”

“That’s a definite plus,” she snickered, “but not the main reason.”

“What’s the main reason?” he asked, cradling her belly and soothing his child with his touch.

“You’re a prime piece of man candy, and Bucky took away all my sugar. Got to get my sweets in somehow.”

He snorted out a laugh. “Good to know.”

“And you’re a good kisser.”

“Am I?”

“Mm, the best,” she sighed, slipping into sleep.

Steve shook his head, kissed her hair, and dozed off grinning.

***

When she woke hours later, Steve had the bath running. He’d felt her stirring, the baby again growing restless and kicking even with his hand on her belly, and knew it wouldn’t be long before Kennedy was up.

He crawled in behind her a second time, brushing the hair from her neck to press gentle kisses to her nape.

She hummed softly, the sound one full of pleasure. “Mmm, Bucky. What will Steven say if he catches you?”

“I’d say the jerk better not be sleeping with my wife,” Steve chuckled, knowing she was only joking. “I’d hate to have to kick his ass days before Christmas. Santa might not bring me anything.”

Kennedy chuckled softly, her eyes opening to show him sparkling green emeralds. “Captain America on the Naughty list? The _scandal_! Not even Maria could spin that.”

“Cheeky dame,” Steve muttered, kissing smiling lips when she rolled over. “And here I went to all the trouble to run you a bath.”

“Really?” she gasped, eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Thought _maybe_ I’d join you, but with all this lip? I don’t know, Doc. Maybe I’ll just go let the water out.”

“Steven!” She fisted her hands in his shirt. “Don’t you dare!”

He laughed but helped her up and off the bed when the girth of her belly made things difficult. Once on her feet, he peeled her sweater up over her head and admired his heavily pregnant wife.

“Don’t stare, Steven,” she sighed, blushing as she looked away.

“I have to stare, doll. You’re so damn beautiful.”

“And big as a hippo. My stretch marks now have stretch marks.”

Her hands went to her sides to cover said marks, but Steve caught her fingers and pulled them away. “Kennedy, sweetheart, they ain’t nothing to be upset about. You’re growing our child. Mine and yours. They ain’t marks of shame, they’re badges of honour. You’re a mama tiger earning her stripes.”  Steve released her fingers to smooth his hands over her belly and dropped to his knees. He turned her gently back and forth so he could place tender kisses on the skin she disliked so much.

“Oh, Steven,” she whispered hoarsely, tears gathering on her lashes.

“Your body’s changing, baby, has been for months, but with every new stretch mark, with every new inch of belly, I find you more attractive than ever. You’re gorgeous, Kennedy, and nobody, not even you, is ever gonna make me think otherwise.”

She bent to rest her hands on his shoulders and kissed him softly. “You’re too good, Steven.”

“Just telling the truth, love.”

He placed a final kiss to her belly and got back to his feet to continue the removal of her clothing. The clasp of her bra came free with the flick of a single finger, something which made her giggle. She always found it amusing how quickly he could strip her when he wished and had teased him more than once that he need only _look_ at her to pop the hooks on her bra.

Her breasts had been a handful before her pregnancy, but now they had swollen further, preparing to feed his child, and grown far more sensitive. When he cupped them, the weight always surprised him. Was it any wonder her back and neck grew tired?

She remained passive, standing for their combined pleasure as he removed her final garment. They’d learned so much of each other in the last year. She was everything he could have ever wanted in a wife, in a partner to share his life. The quiet, soft, relaxed nature of her fit him in ways he’d never imagined.

Coming home to her after a hard mission, or coming to the ranch when they needed to get away, had become his entire life. It was the calm he’d never known he needed. The normalcy he’d always wanted. And, though he’d learned more of ranch stock and rodeo than he’d ever wanted to, it was kind of nice to shed Captain America and become Steven, ranch hand and son-in-law to Jonas Jones.

Sure there were a host of Agents around, all still addressed him as _Captain_ , but in this house, in this _home_ , he was just Steven.

Kennedy had given him that.

Where once he’d been worried about giving her a home and a life like the one she’d had growing up, he’d never expected for her to turn around and provide that life for him instead. The ranch tucked away on acres of land in the middle of western Canada, had become a haven of peace to the entire team, and it was guarded like the treasure it was.

Had Kennedy’s family needed to adjust to being under guard whenever they left the ranch? Certainly, but it was one they’d all gotten used to. Doctor Kennedy Rogers was one of the greatest minds Stark Enterprises had ever know. Her research with the serum was advancing medicine in leaps and bounds, to the point where she’d been given her own team to help with development. The serum itself was a heavily guarded secret, but she’d made such strides in such a short amount of time, they were already beginning lab testing on her MS work.

He was unbelievably proud of her.

When her panties hit the floor, he paused long enough to sear the image of his wife in his mind.

Creamy skin dotted with freckles. Strawberry blonde hair hanging long down her back. She hadn’t bothered to cut it in a while and it had grown thick and shiny with her hormones. The roots had darkened, the new growth coming in a deep, rich red laced with gold. She’d muttered something about _skunk stripe_ when it had first grown out, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Dying one’s hair while pregnant was, apparently, a no-no.

Her areolas had darkened and nipples grown larger, and her appetite for sex had increased exponentially. Not that they’d ever been stingy in that department, but she’d been insatiable for a few months, and he’d wound up on the end of teasing jabs from his teammates when he’d show up for training with less sleep than usual.

Steve didn’t care. It was all in good fun, and he was happy. Stupidly so. If someone had told him five years ago this was where his life was heading, he doubted he would have believed them.

“You’re staring again, Captain,” Kennedy murmured, her cheeks rosy with her blush.

“Can’t help it, Kennedy. I love you so damn much.”

“Steven,” she sighed, catching the hem of his shirt and shoving the tight fabric up his torso. “You know, if you wore the ranch shirts with the snaps, this would be _so_ much easier,” she grumbled when the t-shirt stalled over his pecs.

He chuckled as he took over and ripped the shirt over his head, chucked it to a chair in the corner, and stood before her in only dark blue boxer briefs. “But those show off my muscles. I know you like that.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, sliding her hands over his chest and down his abdomen. “You’d be right about that. I had a weird dream the other night when you weren’t here.”

“Tell me?” he asked, taking her hand and leading her into the bathroom where the tub was full enough to turn off. A big corner tub with jets and a ledge she used for candles, vanilla scented ones he’d already lit, sat beneath a window which looked out at the mountains. All the windows in the house had been replaced with one way bulletproof glass after the HYDRA incident, so he had no qualms about standing before it with his naked wife.

He watched Kennedy’s brow arch when he shucked his shorts, her eyes drifting down to his half hard state as she twisted her hair up into a bun on the top of her head. Interest bloomed, but Steve only smirked and stepped into the tub where he held out his hands to assist her into the warm water.

She hissed softly, the heat stronger for her than him, but he wasn’t concerned. He knew very well how she liked her bath, and he would make sure she wasn’t in it long enough to spike her blood pressure.

“I’m not sure if I was hungry or horny,” she said, eyes on Steve as he sat down and got comfortable against the edge of the tub before joining him. She wiggled herself into the space he created between his thighs, knowing damn well it would rub her ass against his growing cock, and rested against his chest with a sigh.

Steve bit back a groan and grabbed the sponge sitting on the ledge. “And what were you doing in this dream, Doc?” he asked, beginning to drip water over her exposed cleavage.

“Trying to discover what tasted better when licked off your abs.”

His hand paused, and the water ran out of the sponge. “Huh?”

Kennedy snickered and caressed his bent knees, her nails dragging slightly on his thighs. “You heard me.”

He swallowed, hard. The visual had him going from half-mast to full-mast in seconds. “That’s, uh, interesting. What were you testing out?”

“The usual. Whip cream, chocolate, maple syrup.”

He growled at maple syrup. “I vote for that one. I know it tastes real damn good coming off your skin, Kennedy,” Steve crooned, nibbling on her earlobe.

“Then there was the weird. Ketchup, onion dip, pickle juice, and cheese whiz.”

Steve snorted out a laugh. “And? What was the verdict?”

“Pickles and chocolate. I woke up turned on and starving. Went downstairs and ate pickles dipped in chocolate pudding, which tastes better than it sounds,” she said when he made a grossed out noise, “and went back to bed, wishing my husband was around to handle my other issue.”

“No self-satisfaction for my Kennedy?” he teased, the sponge forgotten as he brought his hands up to cup her floating breasts. “You should have texted me.”

“It was three in the morning, Steven,” she sighed, melting into his touch.

“So? Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve gotten dirty on the phone, baby.” The memory of the first time she’d sexted him something naughty made him smile. He’d been away on a mission about the time her sex drive had kicked into high gear. He would never forget how she’d asked if he was _busy_ , and when he’d said no, that he was back at the safe house and would be on his way home the next day, she’d sent him the most sinful, most enticing picture he’d ever gotten. The call had been going through within seconds, and he’d learned the joy of phone sex first hand.

She tilted her head back to look at him. “If I struggle to get my underwear on in the morning, Steven, just _how_ do you think I’m supposed to get to _that_?”

“So, you’re saying _I_ need to help you out with that, doll face?” He gently rolled her nipples, knowing how sensitive they were now.

“Your arms are longer,” she quipped, digging her nails into his thighs with a little more pressure.

“Turn the jets on, Kennedy,” he murmured against her ear.

When they rumbled into life, the water beating against his back, Steve let his hands drift down to her hips and lifted her higher against his chest, allowing him to free his straining cock from its confinement between them. He skimmed his fingers over her thigh and down to find her clit already swollen and hard, and circled it firmly.

She moaned and thrust against his fingers.

“Hook your legs over my knees, baby doll,” Steve commanded, his free hand returning to her sensitive breasts. He stretched his legs out as far as he could, the tub, though large, not quite long enough for him to fully fit, and continued to pet her gently as she did what he asked.

Her hands floated on the water now that they’d lost their grip on his thighs.

“Bring your hands up behind my neck,” he ordered, assisting on the one side, so she was stretched out over his body. “Gonna take care of you, baby. Gonna make you feel so damn good. Need to get you nice and turned on for me. Make you nice and slick.”

“God, _Steven_!” she gasped, when he delved deeper to make sure she was good and wet so as not to hurt her, the water doing more harm than good in this case.

He went back to stroking her, circling the jewel with quick, practiced fingers. “Need you close, sweetheart. Tell me when you’re close.” He didn’t technically need the verbal announcement, her face speaking out for her.

Her eyelids fluttered shut, lips parted, and cheeks flushed. She panted softly, moaned his name and rocked a little into his fingers.

“Tonight, love, if the mood strikes, I’ll happily let you lick whatever you want off my abs.”

“Fuck! Steven!” she barked.

His cock jumped, banging against his knuckles, and he took it in hand to notch it against her opening. Even with the water washing away some of her sweet slick, she would be fine. Her scorching wet sheath welcomed him, tight and throbbing with her building orgasm, and once he was seated as far as he could get in this position, Steve put part two of his plan into action.

A twist of his hips, and he lifted their combined leg over the edge of the tub, tipping Kennedy firmly into his chest and bringing their joined centers into the full stream of the pounding jet.

“ _Steven_!” she shrieked.

He groaned in disbelief. “Fuck that’s intense!” he gasped, as the water rushed over his cock and tickled his balls while throbbing directly against Kennedy’s clit.

She thrashed against him, but he spread his legs wide, keeping her caught with his grip on her thigh and the arm he’d wrapped beneath her breasts. “Breathe, baby.”

“Can’t!” she gasped, tugging at his hair. “Oh, _god_! That’s so… oh, _fuck_ ,” she moaned.

He didn’t even need to move. There was no need to thrust, not when the pulsing water throbbed through his dick, and her rapidly tightening walls informed him how close she was to coming. “That’s so good, baby, so damn good. You gonna come for me?”

“Steven, please!”

He returned his fingers to her breast and plucked at her nipple, gave it a twist and set his lips beneath her ear to suck a mark under her tattoo. “Come on, Doc. You’re so close. You feel so fucking good, baby. Between you and the water, I ain’t gonna last. Need you to come, doll face so I can too. Missed you, sweetheart. Missed my sexy wife. Come for me, Kennedy, _right now_!” he growled, nipping the sensitive spot on her throat.

“Fuck!” she squealed, her body clamping down around his.

Steve swore a foul streak as the combination saw pleasure screaming from his balls to empty himself out in her clenching core. “Damn, doll… just… _damn_ ,” he sighed, turning them away from the jet, perfectly happy with his homecoming and still mostly hard inside her.

“Wow…” she breathed out, a shudder wracking her body. She pulsed around him, her walls contracting in short burst of renewed pleasure when she hit the button for the jets. “When did you come up with that, Rogers? Did you find a dirty magazine in your hotel while you were gone?” Kennedy teased.

“Har har, Kennedy. It’s just you, baby. You’ve got me thinking thoughts.”

She flexed her walls and chuckled when he moaned in her ear. “And what thoughts are you thinking right now, Captain?”

He gripped her hips and lifted her up just enough so he could rock up into her, finally dragging his cock through her tight walls. “That I ain’t done with you yet, woman.”

***

Relaxed, sated, and a complete prune, Kennedy smiled at Steve. He was knelt down, helping her with her socks. “You know, I will _kind_ of miss this after the baby comes.”

“What?” he asked, rubbing the sole of her foot.

Her eyes shuttered in bliss. “Having you pamper me a little. I’m not much for the fussing, but I won’t ever say no to a foot rub and a bath.”

He chuckled softly and dug his thumbs in a little deeper. “Yeah? Feel good, baby?”

“Rogers… you could do that for four or five _days_ , and I wouldn’t complain.”

“How’s the backache?” he asked, blue eyes assessing.

“Better, but your child is kicking me in the spleen.”

His attention immediately dropped to the left side of her body, his hands soon followed, slipping up beneath her sweater to run his warm palm over the shivering flesh their son or daughter was kicking. “Hey, baby,” he murmured, pushing her clothing up to press a tender kiss to her skin, his beard tickling a little. “Give mama a break will you?”

Almost instantly, the kicking stopped, and Kennedy sighed. “They seem to be getting stronger all the time.”

“Guess it’s a good thing you’ve only got a few weeks to go.” He placed another kiss on her belly and murmured softly to their baby, words she couldn’t quite make out.

“We should head downstairs. The kids have been anxious to decorate the big tree, but we’ve held them off so you could be here.”

“You didn’t have to do that, doll face,” Steve said, but his eyes glistened, and she tenderly cupped his face.

“Of course we did. You’re family, Steven. I wasn’t about to decorate the tree without you. Besides, Dad and Bucky have done a great job keeping the kids entertained. You’ll have to ask Bucky about _land tobogganing_.” She snickered softly and heaved herself off the edge of the bed.

“Land tobogganing?”

“Just ask. It will be worth it.” She grinned wide, continuing to chuckle as she made her way out of the room and down the stairs. Down was always easier than up, and she was only a little out of breath when they made the first floor.

The smells of Christmas baking were heavenly, and Kennedy’s mouth watered. “Cookies,” she sighed, making Steve laugh.

“C’mon. Let’s see if we can’t find the cookies, but just one, Kennedy.”

“Spoilsport.” She pouted. “Christmas is when you get to eat yourself sick on goodies. You’re all taking the fun right out of it.”

“We just want you healthy, love,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her back into his chest. His hands dropped to cradle her belly. “Both of you, but… maybe we can agree on two cookies.”

“Sold!” Kennedy laughed.

“Did you just play me, woman?” he asked, smirking down at her.

Kennedy smirked over her shoulder. “Got to get my kicks in somehow, Cap.”

“Tricky, doll. Very tricky.”

She pulled away to head down the hall toward the sounds of merriment coming from the living room. “Got you to agree to two cookies. Totally worth it.”

“There you two are!” Mary called out as Kennedy and Steve walked into the living room. “I was just going to send Jonas to find you.”

Eyeing all the boxes full of ornaments, Kennedy smiled. “It’s all good. I just really needed a rest.”

“And Steve just really needed a cuddle,” Bucky quipped, causing everyone to laugh and Steve’s ears to reddened.

“Why don’t you tell me about land tobogganing, _pal_?” Steve asked, causing everyone to laugh even harder.

“Oi! How was I to know you were supposed to lean into the turns?” Bucky barked.

Kennedy lowered herself to the armchair by the fire, her preferred seat, and eyed the tray of cookies hopefully.

“Winter Soldier took on a whole new meaning after we dug him out of the snowbank,” Matt teased.

“Wait, wait!” Steve said, holding up his hand. “What is it?”

Jonas snickered as he picked up the tray of goodies and brought it over to Kennedy. “You take about forty feet of rope, tie one end to a toboggan, the other to the bumper on the pickup, and head out across country. The kids get a thrill, no one has to climb the hill, and we all have fun. Let’s just say… Bucky miscalculated how hard the corner was going to be.”

“If you don’t lean,” Matt chuckled, smirking at Bucky who glowered at him, “you can come off the toboggan at a pretty good clip, and end up rolling through the pasture. Bucky just happened to roll off and end up head first in a snowdrift!”

“He was a grumpy white snowman when we finally dug him out!” Kennedy snickered, biting the head off a gingerbread man.

“Don’t tell me you were on that thing?” Steve looked at her shocked.

“She drove the damn truck,” Bucky grumbled, cheeks red with embarrassment.

“I have pictures.” Kennedy winked at Steve.

“You do not!” Bucky bellowed.

She snickered and took off the cookies arm. “Oh, you bet your ass I do. I should post them on Instagram.”

“Doll… don’t you dare,” Bucky threatened.

“The new definition of _winter soldier_. A snow-covered Bucky Barnes, looking like a deranged Yeti as he’s pulled, feet first, from a five-foot snow drift.”

“Kenny, don’t make me hurt you,” he warned, but it was a hollow threat.

She gave him a wink and a shrug. “Just remember what a sweet, kind, wonderful person I am next time you growl at me when I reach for the coffee pot.”

“St _eeeve_!” Bucky whined. “Your wife is being mean!”

The room burst out laughing again.

“Knowing you, jerk? You probably deserve it!” Steve snickered.

“Punk! Throw you on the toboggan and drag you around the pasture and see if you fare any better!”

“Alright, alright, _children_ ,” Mary stepped in. “Tonight is for carolling and tree trimming, not bickering.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said the two super soldiers in unison.

The stereo came on, the boxes were opened, and Kennedy sat back to watch as everyone got in on the action, hanging ornaments, tinsel, lights and garlands on the enormous blue spruce her dad had brought home a few days ago. Big and thick and lush, it was the nicest one she could remember seeing in years, and watching Steve and Bucky compete to see who could reach the highest branches while lifting her nieces and nephews up to help place ornaments, just turned her heart over.

She ate the second cookie and, when no one was looking, snuck a Nanaimo Bar off the tray.

“I saw that,” Jonas whispered, kissing the top of her head before sitting on the stool beside her. “How you doing, baby girl?”

“Good,” she sighed, her smile happy. “Real good now that Steven’s home.”

“That’s good, Kenny.” He took and squeezed her hand. “What a year, huh?”

“A whirlwind of a year.” She’d never been more content in her life. “How’s Aunt Joan and Uncle Daniel?”

“Got an email the other day. They’re having a great time, and Joan is really enjoying the heat in the Bahamas. I’ll miss her for Christmas, but… this trip was important to them.”

“I’m glad they got to go. After Danny and all… they needed to get away.”

It had been just over a year since that awful day when Hydra had come to the house, and Danny’s death had been made clear, but for Joan and Daniel, their son’s death had happened three weeks later when police officers had arrived to inform them of his passing. A tragic case of their son’s misdeeds finally catching up with him. It had put a damper on the season for her Aunt and Uncle, and this year, they had decided to get away, go somewhere warm, and do something different. Plus, with her Aunt’s progressive MS, they weren’t sure how many more years of motor function she would have which would allow her to take such a trip.

If Kennedy had anything to say about it, there would be many years to come, but her research and testing were still in the early stages. She wasn’t getting anyone’s hopes up, not just yet.

Leaning closer to her father, Kennedy whispered, “If I have one more, will you cover for me?”

He gave her a wink, surreptitiously plucked another square off the tray, a lemon bar with coconut topping, and handed it to her. “Always, Kenny.”

She popped it between her lips and darted a glance toward the tree. A flush instantly crawled across her cheeks as two sets of blue eyes stared at her. “Oops.”

“Whatever are we going to do with you?” Steve smirked and shook his head.

Bucky rolled his eyes, but if she wasn’t mistaken, they both looked relatively indulgent, though she doubted they’d let her get away with sneaking one more.

Still, she leaned over and kissed her father’s weathered cheek. “Thanks, dad,” she whispered.

“Anytime, little girl.” He grinned, getting up and taking the tray with him. “Anytime.”

* * *

Two days later, Kennedy sat before the fire in the living room, watching as Steve and Bucky and Sam argued about which hockey team would be making the run for the cup and why. It made her smile into her mug, the cup of hot chocolate brought to her courtesy of Natasha who’d arrived that morning from New York. The rest of the team looked on or interjected their own opinion, everyone gathering for the holiday, and Kennedy had never been happier.

This was family. All of them. From the Avengers to her own, the house was full of laughter and noise, just the way she liked it. Even Clint and his family had joined them, the children laughing and giggling with her nieces and nephews, though the baby was more inclined to simply laugh at everything, didn’t matter what.

Everyone was here, and her stupid hormones were about three seconds away from making her tear up, but it was the dull ache in her low back which finally had her shoving the colourful Christmas throw from her legs and pushing to her feet without finishing her drink.

“Kenny?” Natasha asked quietly, getting up with her. “You alright?”

All conversation in the room ended as she became the immediate focus of everyone’s attention. “I’m fine.” She waved them off and waddled away muttering, “Girl can’t even get up to pee without people fussing at her.”

Natasha snickered but dropped back down to the couch beside Sam, returning to the game of chess she was playing with Jesse.

Kennedy escaped to the kitchen where she paused to rest her hands on the island and take a deep breath. The dull ache in her back was a lot more persistent than it had been. When it passed a few breaths later, she pressed the heels of both hands into her back and continued toward the powder room a few steps away.

Through the small window in the bathroom, she watched the snow fall in a flurry of fat flakes, covering everything in a thick blanket of white. The blizzard the Weatherman and her father had been harping on about had finally arrived, closing in shortly after the quinjets had landed, and she could barely see the lights on the barn through the curtain of white.

When she returned to the kitchen, she glanced at the clock above the stove and smiled when Matt and Henry wandered in with Vision, and began getting on their winter gear. “Feeding time?”

“You know it!” Henry grinned.

“I will assist,” Vision said, his clothing rippling, turning into a thick winter coat while a toque appeared on his bald head. “The horses seem to like me.”

She kind of thought it was the other way around, but… wasn’t going to mention it. “That’s great, Vis. Have fun.”

They waved to her as they left, letting a blast of cold air and swirl of snow in as they exited. All the men had stopped allowing her to do things like feeding and mucking stalls, or get anywhere near the bulls the minute they’d found out she was pregnant. And, while it had been kind of nice to escape the chores, it was a little annoying to be treated like glass. Women had been having babies for thousands of years before her and had still packed water, hand washed laundry, and fed the livestock without reprieve. Why should she be any different?

Bucky had only glared at her and stated firmly, _none of those women had been having the first ever super soldier baby_. They had no idea how such a pregnancy would go, and none of them were taking any chances with her or the baby. She was told to plant her ass and deal.

She hated it when he was right. Smug, metal-armed menace.

When a ripple of pressure ran across her abdomen, Kennedy grunted in surprise. “Settle down, baby,” she murmured, rubbing a soothing circle over the spot.

The ripple came a second time, producing a tightening feel and a hardening of the muscles beneath her fingers. Kennedy’s eyes widened, but the feeling faded quickly, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Kennedy?” The quiet voice called out to her, and she smiled over her shoulder at Wanda.

“Just Braxton Hicks contractions, nothing to worry about.”

Wanda’s smile was as lovely as she was when she walked up and placed her hands lightly on Kennedy’s swollen belly. “The baby is restless.”

“He or she is better now that Steven’s back. I’m getting a few more hours of sleep at night before they are up jumping on my bladder.”

She giggled, Wanda’s entire being seeming to light up when she did so. “The babe is anxious to be born.”

“You can feel that?” Kennedy asked excitedly.

“Mm, _da_. Is good I put my name in early for the pool,” Wanda whispered, her smile sly. “But I do not know if I picked soon enough.”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Kennedy whispered, giving Wanda a wink. “I picked an early date, too.”

“Early date for what?”

Kennedy jolted at Steve’s voice and blushed at getting caught. “Nothing! Damn cat, where’s your bell?”

Wanda burst out laughing.

“Well, now I _really_ want to know why you look so guilty,” Steve chuckled, striding across the room.

“Christmas is tomorrow, Steven. You’re not allowed to ask questions like that. Maybe Wanda and I were discussing your gift.”

“Were you?” he asked, eyes twinkling.

“No,” Kennedy muttered, “but we might have been, so keep your super soldier nose out of things.”

“Is not his nose which is problem!” Wanda laughed, giving Steve’s ear a tug.

Mary wandered in about that point and smiled. “Are you getting yourself in trouble for eavesdropping _again_ , Steven?”

“It’s not my fault my hearing is enhanced!” he grumbled and pouted a little.

Kennedy reached up to cup his cheeks and pulled him down for a kiss. “It’s okay, Steven. I still love you, even if you’re as nosy as an old woman.”

“What is this? Pick on Steve day?” His pout grew, but his eyes twinkled.

“Poor baby.” Kennedy kissed him again.

“Kenny, stop teasing your husband and come help me with dinner. You too, Wanda if you’re willing.”

“Sure thing, mom.” Kennedy patted Steve’s cheeks and gave him a sly smile.

“What we making?” Tony asked, wandering into the kitchen. “I’ll help.”

“I was hoping you would, Anthony dear,” Mary smiled and tossed him an apron. “Steven, go occupy Natasha. I love her, but the girl could burn water, and you know she’ll want to help.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve chuckled, kissing the top of Kennedy’s head. “Plant your butt, doll face. I want you off your feet.”

She rolled her eyes, but Kennedy settled onto the stool Tony pulled out for her. “Fussy old women, the lot of you,” she grumbled, but there was no heat to the words, and she took the potatoes handed her to begin peeling.

***

“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asked Kennedy later that night.

She had a death grip on the fireplace mantel and was staring at the tree in the corner of the living room. “Huh? Oh, nothing,” she said, shaking her head.

“You don’t look like it’s nothing,” Bucky said, frowning as he moved closer.

This time, when the ripple washed across her abdomen, bring tightness and a dull ache with it Kennedy was unable to contain the gasp it forced from her lips.

“That ain’t nothing!” Bucky barked, leaping forward to take her by the arm when her legs shook. “Steve! Bruce!” he bellowed, causing Kennedy to flinch at the volume.

“What? What is it?” Steve shouted, running into the room. “Kennedy!”

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” she tried to wave them off, but the contraction hadn’t ended yet, and she didn’t dare let go of Bucky’s arm.

“What’s all the yell-” Bruce didn’t even finish the question, rushing across the room to place his hands on Kennedy’s stomach. “How long, Kennedy?”

“I don’t… know,” she gasped.

“Don’t give me that bull! You’re a doctor! How long have you been having contractions?” he snapped.

Kennedy flinched, withdrawing a little when his eyes flared green. “Since… before dinner. But I thought they were Braxton Hicks!” she said, cutting off the protests of the men. “Then I just thought it was indigestion until this last couple. It’s not like I’ve done this before!”

Steve moved up behind her, drawing her back into his embrace when her chin quivered. “It’s okay, doll. No one’s upset with you.”

“It’s too early,” Bucky murmured, his eyes a little wild. “This can’t happen yet.”

“I’m afraid you don’t get a say, Barnes,” Bruce quipped. “And from all the test and measurements we’ve taken, this baby is more than big enough to be born. Looks like super soldiers gestate faster than regular babies. Kennedy,” he looked up and gently held her hands. “What do you want to do? Have the baby here, or go to the hospital?”

“Can you even fly in this?” she asked, referring to the blizzard still blowing outside.

“I could,” Clint answered from the doorway. “But it would be rough as hell.”

“And here?” she asked Bruce.

“From everything I’ve seen, you’ll be fine for a home birth. The baby is in the proper position, your vitals are all good. Helen and I have talked about it. It wouldn’t be any different than what we were going to do with you at the Tower. I have everything I need in the jet.”

“Really?” she asked, gazing at Bruce in surprise.

“Yeah,” he smiled softly. “I had a feeling and figured we should be prepared.”

“How dangerous is this, Bruce?” Steve asked, and Kennedy could feel the tightness of his body.

“It’s as dangerous as any childbirth, Steve, but I will take all the precautions I can. Kennedy is healthy, so is the baby, and I don’t foresee any problems doing this here. Plus, it’s private, and if we need it, the base has a med center I can use.”

The last thing she wanted was news of this getting out, and going to the hospital would make that a guarantee. People clamouring for there attention shortly after the baby was born... the idea of it was off-putting, to say the least.

When the next contraction rolled across Kennedy’s stomach, she made her decision without hesitation. “Here! We’re doing this here!”

The commotion had drawn the rest of their friends and family to the living room, but it was Mary who became all business and went instantly to work. “Bruce, we’ll set up the recovery room as a birthing suite. Nat, Wanda, and May with me. Laura and Susan, help Kennedy upstairs and get her changed.”

“What about us?” Bucky and Sam asked, though all the men looked anxious.

“Help Bruce if he needs it and get the room ready. Then keep the children occupied and out from under foot,” Mary ordered like a drill sergeant.

If she hadn’t been trying to breathe through a contraction, it would have made Kennedy laugh to see them all jump to her mother’s beat.

Steve picked her up and held her tightly to him. “This is it, doll. We’re gonna meet our baby.”

She smiled as the pain subsided and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Let’s do this, Cap.”

***

“I can’t do this!” Kennedy wailed hours later.

“Yes you can, love,” Steve encouraged, holding her up as another contraction nearly took her legs out from under her. She’d been in labour for five hours, and they’d changed positions a few times.

The recovery suite was a spacious room Shield had rehabbed for agents who’d been injured and needed extra care. The bed was adjustable. The bathroom had both a big, walk-in shower. There were outlets to plug in all Bruce’s equipment as well as extra linens and medical supplies should they be needed. It wasn’t a medical bay by any means, but it fit the bill for a birthing suite now that Mary had worked her magic.

Rugs had been rolled back, leaving the floors bare for easy cleaning. The bed had been stripped and padded with extra sheets and towels for the same reason. Space had been made so Kennedy could walk when she wanted. Towels and extra nightclothes left in the bathroom should she wish to stand in the shower.

Steve had long ago stripped down to a pair of shorts, determined to go through every step of her ordeal with her. When she wanted to stand in the water and let it beat on the small of her back, he went with her. If she needed to stand and rock, he made sure to sway along. If she needed to sit, he held her close and rubbed her back.

When her water had broken about an hour ago, and the pain had gone from her breathing through it to her trying to break off his hand as she lost all ability to speak, he’d had an intense moment of guilt and discovered all new respect for his own mother. When he’d been born, it was still in the age when the father sat outside in the waiting room and passed out cigars, smugly proud of their prowess.

Kennedy had told him in no uncertain terms he _would_ be in the delivery room. He _would_ be present for their child’s birth. If for some reason he wasn’t, the world had better damn well be ending or she was going to take a strip out of his hide.

But he’d had no idea _this_ was what women went through. Okay, he’d had some idea. He wasn’t an idiot, but while he’d known it would _hurt_ he hadn’t known it would hurt _like this_!

“No, I really can’t, Steven!” She shook all over, her braid dampening the back of her nightshirt. The girls had tied her hair back, helped her out of her clothes and into a big cotton t-shirt. She had a few, liking them to sleep in when it was cold out, or he was away. This one had Eeyore on the front wearing a Santa hat. It was ridiculous and adorable and just so Kennedy.

“Yeah, baby. I know you can. You’re my sweet Kennedy, my amazing Canadian girl. We can do this, love.”

“Rogers, what’s with this _we_ shit?” she snarled.

He didn’t take offence, knowing she wasn’t wrong. “You know I’d take the pain if I could, Kennedy.”

Anger turned to tears, and she sobbed into his chest. “It hurts, Steven,” she whispered, clutching at him.

He looked to Bruce as he came through the door. “I know, baby, but we tried the drugs, and they didn’t work. Our little super soldier is doing some unexpected things, sweetheart.”

“Want them out,” she pouted. “I’m so tired.”

“Hey, Kennedy. Let’s have a look, okay? Maybe we can grant that wish,” Bruce offered, motioning Steve to bring her back to the bed.

He helped her across the floor and up on the bed. She’d long ago stopped blushing every time Bruce got his hands on her. They’d planned for Helen to do the delivery, but Bruce had been with them every step as well, and though Kennedy had wanted a woman down there, it didn’t seem to matter anymore that Bruce was, as she’d put it, all up in her lady bits.

“Looks like you get your wish, Kenny. Time to push this baby out.” Bruce glanced to Steve.

He helped Kennedy sit up and braced behind her, holding her hands, so she had something to bear down against. “C’mon, sweetheart. You’ve got this.”

“Steven…” she moaned her head on his shoulder. Sweat coated her face and curled her hair, but he still thought she was so damn beautiful. “I can’t.”

Before he could encourage her, Bruce spoke up.

“Kennedy, I know you’re tired, but nobody else can do this for you. The baby’s got to come out. Drugs aren’t working so we can’t give you a cesarean even if you wanted one. You have to birth this baby. So push, goddammit!”

That seemed to be all the fire she needed.

The next twenty minutes went by in a haze of blood, sweat and tears, unlike anything Steve had ever witnessed. It was a struggle for life. A battle waged between a woman and her body, and no matter how he held her, encouraged her, _fought_ with her, it was all Kennedy’s doing when the slick, bloody head of their baby finally emerged.

“Good!” Bruce shouted. “One more, Kennedy! You’ve got this!”

She screamed the most primal sound Steve had ever heard and sent their baby sliding into the hands of Bruce.

“Look. Oh wow, look, Kennedy,” Steve breathed in awe as Bruce laid the baby on the towel in his lap and added clips to the umbilical cord. “Look what you did. That’s our baby.”

“A healthy baby boy. Ten fingers, ten toes, and utterly perfect,” Bruce said, grinning up at them. “Hardest secret I’ve ever kept.” He lifted the bundle up and placed their son in Kennedy’s lap. “Here, Cap.” Bruce held up a pair of scissors. “Cut the cord, right here.”

His hand shook as he took the scissors from Bruce and worked his way through the cord, severing his child from his mother. No sooner was it done, then the boy sucked in a lung full of air and gave a hearty wail.

Kennedy inhaled just as hard but sobbed out a laugh. “Look at him. Oh, god, Steven… he’s perfect.”

Time seemed to stand still, and though he was aware of Bruce doing things, Steve was utterly enraptured by the baby. His little mouth opened and closed, sucking but no longer crying, taking comfort in the arms of his mother. Small fists waved. Little feet kicked.

“Okay, mom and dad.” Bruce smiled. “Everything looks good. Let me have him back, and I’ll go clean him up.”

“Oh, but…” Kennedy clutched him closer.

“He needs a bath and a once over, Kenny, and I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a rinse yourself.” He looked pointedly to Steve.

“It will be okay, Kennedy. Let’s get you cleaned up, and then Bruce will be right back.” Steve kissed her cheek and nodded to Bruce to take the baby, even though his heart also clenched at the loss.

Once Bruce headed for the tub of water he’d already filled and had waiting, Steve scooped Kennedy up and took her to the bathroom.

It wasn’t until he was standing in the shower with her, watching the water run red down the drain that he started to shake.

“Steven?” She frowned up at him, her eyes exhausted.

“That was… the single greatest thing I have ever seen,” he whispered, resting his forehead on hers. “You’re amazing, Kennedy. Astounding. You gave me a son. You did that.”

“You did _kind_ _of_ help, just a little,” she teased.

A smile twitched his lips. “I love you, Kennedy Marie Rogers. God, how I love you.” He pressed the lightest of kiss to her parted lips.

“Steven,” she sighed, leaning into him. “I love you, too, but I’m tired, and I want my baby.”

“Okay, doll.”

He helped her dry and dress and carried her back into the bedroom. Bruce was waiting, holding their son, his eyes bright. “Looks just like you, Cap.”

Sure enough, with the birth washed off his son’s cap of bright blond hair shone beneath the overhead lights.

“Here, Kennedy.” Bruce transferred the baby back to her arms. “You should go upstairs, be comfortable in your own bed. I’ll come check on you in a bit.”

She grabbed his hand before he could turn away and with teary eyes whispered hoarsely, “Thank you, Bruce. Thank you.”

His smile was soft, and his eyes were also wet when Bruce nodded. “Congratulations to the both of you. He’s beautiful.”

***

Steve fussed as he settled her into their bed, placing pillows and propping her up until Kennedy finally grabbed his hand and tugged him down beside her. “Just stop, Steven. Everything is fine.”

Swaddled, their son was resting on her lap, a hat and blanket in blue keeping him warm. Bruce really had come prepared.

“He’s beautiful, Kennedy.” The awe lacing Steve’s voice made her smile.

“With you for a father? How could he not be?” she asked.

“I think it’s with you for a mother,” he quipped, kissing her cheek and snuggling close.

The baby fussed a little, grunting and rooting, and Kennedy smiled, thankful she’d changed out of her nightshirt into one of Steve’s plaid button ups. The tingling in her breasts wasn’t painful, but it was a new sensation. When he fussed a second time, she reached for the buttons, seeming to just _know_ what to do.

His little mouth latched on, and she gasped at the sensation when he began to suckle.

“Baby?” Steve asked, bringing his hand up to cover hers on the back of their son’s head.

“Feels… different, but good different.”

Steve relaxed, a smile playing on his lips as he watched their son enjoy his first meal. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

She turned her head to look at him and smiled. “Me either.”

“God I love you, Kennedy.”

“You’ve said that a few times today, Rogers,” she teased.

“I mean it every time.” His hand came up to cup her chin.

“I know you do.” She kissed him then, gentle and soft.

A quiet knock on the door broke them apart.

“Yeah?” Steve called.

“It’s Bruce and Mary.”

“Come in,” Kennedy called out, fresh tears gathering when her mother burst through the door to hurry toward the bed.

“Oh, oh, Kenny!” Mary cried, sitting next to her. “He’s beautiful!”

“And greedy,” Kennedy chuckled.

“What’s his name?” Mary asked, darting a glance toward Steve.

When Kennedy glanced his direction, she noted the sharp way Steve watched everyone in the room and should have known he’d turn all papa bear as soon as the baby was born. “We’re going to wait and tell everyone together.”

“I sent everyone else off to bed, but I just had to stay up to see him. You realize you’ve had a Christmas baby,” Mary said, wiping at her tears. “It’s three in the morning, December twenty-fifth.”

“Huh…” Kennedy smiled, finding it kind of fitting. A Christmas baby for the man whose birthday was the Fourth of July. Then she snickered. “I win.”

“Win what?” Steve asked.

“The baby pool,” Bruce grumbled, lifting his hands from where he’d been checking Kennedy’s stomach. “Dammit! I knew I should have picked an earlier date.”

“What you have?” asked Mary. “I had January second.”

“Mom!” Kennedy laughed.

“Well, you had Christmas!” Mary huffed.

“The twenty-ninth,” Bruce sighed. “Was why I brought all the equipment with me.”

“You were all _betting_ on when the baby would be born?” Steve gasped, staring at Kennedy in horror.

“Hey! I won… I don’t even know how much. What was the pot up to?” Kennedy asked Bruce.

“I’d have to check with Tony. Last I heard it was six-hundred.”

“Jeez! Dollface!” Steve dragged his hand down his face.

“Oh, lighten up!” Kennedy teased. “I made six-hundred bucks!”

Steve shook his head, but his eyes shone with amusement.

“Alright, well, we’ll leave you three to get some rest, and everyone can meet the newest member of the family tomorrow,” Mary said, leaning in to kiss Kennedy’s forehead, then rising to lean over and kiss Steve’s cheek. “Congratulations you two.”

“Thanks, mom,” Kennedy whispered, voice choked.

“Mary. Bruce.” Steve nodded.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Mary darted into the hall and came back with a bassinet. “May made Jesse go get it!” she snickered.

Kennedy giggled. “How badly did he grouch?”

“Only a little. How could he say no?” Mary laughed and left the room, Bruce shutting the door behind them.

A grunt and fuss had her switching her son to the other breast. “You are greedy,” she snickered, brushing his cheek.

“Going to be a big boy,” Steve murmured.

“Like his daddy.” She was fairly certain she’d heard Bruce say he’d been pushing nine pounds and was a good twenty-one inches long, but she’d have to ask tomorrow to be sure.

A tired yawn had her eyes drooping as Steve slipped from the bed to gather the bassinet and strip down to his underwear.

“Hey,” she called softly, causing him to look at her. “Dig in the bottom of my bag.”

“What am I looking for?” Steve asked, crouching down beside it.

“You’ll know when you find it.”

He arched a brow her way but continued to rifle until his hand came to a sudden stop. “Baby,” he sighed, a smile breaking out as he pulled the blue onesie Bucky had gotten for the baby back at Father’s day from her bag.

“I had a feeling.”

“And you didn’t share?” he half scolded.

“I didn’t want you to worry. Grab a hand towel.”

He set the little outfit down on the dresser and reached into the bathroom for the one hanging over the sink. “I’d never have gone to the UN thing if I’d known. What if I’d missed it?”

“Steven,” she looked at him pointedly, “I get it. You can’t always put us first. You have a very important job, but don’t go borrowing trouble! You were here, everything is good, and in a few hours, we can do Christmas with our very best gift ever. Nothing’s topping this!” she chuckled, taking the towel and draping it over her shoulder as she lifted the baby to it and began to pat his back.

The belch which came from his small body made her snicker. She scooted over gingerly, patting the bed for the bassinet and laying their baby down in it. Steve crawled back into bed, spooning up close behind her and scattering pillows out of the way. His arm draped over her, the heat of his body soothing against her back, and lightly rested his hand on their son. “Thank you, Kennedy,” he whispered against her shoulder.

“You’re welcome, Steven, but we did this together. He’s _our_ son. Now, go to sleep.”

He was almost asleep when she giggled softly. “What?” Steve asked.

“You do realize, Captain America’s son… is _Canadian_.”

“So? So am I,” he chuckled. “Go to sleep, woman.”

She snickered softly and was asleep within seconds.

***

The baby woke them a few hours later, hungry and wet. Thankfully, Bruce’s preparedness included such things as diapers and other items, such as clothes and blankets, were available to borrow from Susan and May. In fact, a care basket had been left outside the door at some point in the night and caused Kennedy to tear up at her family’s thoughtfulness.

Still, his first outfit was the onesie Bucky had purchased, and the blanket Kennedy wrapped him in had once been her own.

Steve had forgone any arguments once she was dressed, simply handing her the baby and sweeping her off her feet to take his family down the stairs and sit them in the chair by the fire. It was early enough only a few people were stirring. Mary and Jonas were up, along with Matt, Jesse, Vision and Henry, the boys already outside caring for the livestock.

Jonas instantly commandeered the baby, sneakily offering Kennedy a cinnamon bun in trade. She ate it, watching her father like a hawk as he cooed and cuddled the baby.

Steve slipped into the kitchen and mixed her a mocha, his wife’s exhaustion still evident, and returned with a cup of coffee for himself. She’d looked at him in surprise, but he’d only given her a wink. It was Christmas morning after all. He wasn’t going to begrudge her a cup of coffee after all she’d gone through the night before.

When Bucky arrived at a quick march a few minutes later, Steve had only just gotten the baby away from Jonas, but when the look of utter longing had descended, he walked straight to Bucky and held out his son.

“Steve… I…” Bucky shook his head.

“How are you ever going to be my son’s godfather if you won’t even hold him?”

“What?” Bucky gasped, looking toward Kennedy.

She patted the arm of the sofa next to her. “Come sit, Bucky. Then, hold your godchild.”

His mouth hung open, but Bucky came and sat, and looked at Steve with eyes full of wonder when he placed their son in the cradle of his flesh arm.

“Oh… wow…” Bucky whispered. “He’s so small.”

“That’s not what I thought when he was being born,” Kennedy grumbled into her mug, but her eyes twinkled like stars.

“How you doing, doll face?” Bucky asked, looking at her with concern.

“I’m fine, Bucky. Everything went as planned.”

He reached out and took her hand. “That’s good, Kenny. Real good.” He let her go and grinned sappily at Steve. “Looks like you, punk.”

“I would hope so,” Steve chuckled, sitting on the coffee table in front of Bucky. He had to reach out and touch his son, stroke his finger over the boy’s cheek, so completely enamoured he couldn’t help himself and lightly caressed his fuzzy little head. The touch made him squeak, grunt, and squirm, and Bucky jumped.

“Stop that!” He glared at Steve.

Steve snickered. “Babies wiggle, pal. Get used to it.”

“Give me the baby, and no one dies!” Natasha squealed, darting in the door and causing Kennedy to laugh when she dropped down beside Bucky. “Hand him over, Barnes!”

“No! He’s my godchild!”

“What!” Nat gasped, turning on Kennedy. “How could you?”

“He can have two, Natasha,” Steve laughed, batting Bucky’s hand away when he reached out and took his son back to hand him to Natasha.

“And besides, you’re a godmother three times over!” Clint huffed, wandering in with Laura who immediately went to snuggle up beside Nat and coo over the baby. “What are my kids, chopped liver?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Clint,” Laura huffed. “Look at this pretty baby.”

“We are not having another,” Clint grumbled, but Steve watched his face smooth into lines of want when he perched on the arm of the sofa beside his wife.

After that, the influx went from a trickle to a river until the noise escalated and the kids were about ready to tear down the tree if they couldn’t get into the presents, all chattering on about Santa and stockings, and _please_! _Just one gift before breakfast_? Until Mary came in and cleared her throat.

“As we are now all gathered, might we _please_ know the name of our newest grandbaby?”

Steve smiled as he took his son back from Wanda and Vision, both Sam and Tony grumbling about missing their turn, and went to deliver him back to Kennedy. “We’ve thought about this a lot. Talked about it even more, and hope you all like what we’ve chosen as much as we do.”

“We wanted to use names that were important to both sides of the family,” Kennedy said, smiling up at Steve.

“So, in honour of Mary’s dad and two of our best friends,” Steve felt himself choke up and fought it back, “meet James Edward Rogers.”

“Oh… oh, _Kennedy_!” Mary gasped, tears pouring down her cheeks.   

“Steve…” Bucky whispered, his eyes watering as well.

“Dammit, Kenny!” Tony huffed, wiping at his face. He stalked forward to slouch down on the stool beside her. “You had to go and do something like that, didn’t ya?”

She reached out and grasped his hand. “Who’d a thought it, huh?”

“Least you can do is let me hold my namesake,” he grumbled, and she handed him the baby.

Steve settled onto the arm of her chair as he watched the man who Kennedy had once feared more than nearly anyone else in the world cradled his son to his chest while tears tracked Tony’s cheeks.

Over the last months, Tony had become a huge part of their world, as he was to the entire team, but he and Kennedy had developed a unique kind of bond. It had been stunted and awkward at first, but Tony was hard to resist when he wanted to be charming, and Kennedy was brilliant enough to keep up with him when he yammered on about things Steve had little understanding of. 

They’d bonded over biology, and when the three of them - Kennedy, Bruce, and Tony - ended up in a room together, the rest of them had a tendency to vanish as conversations delved into molecular biology and chemical engineering.

When Kennedy had brought up the idea of Edward as a middle name, Steve had jumped on board. What better way to show Tony how much they cared?

“So Barnes gets a name _and_ godparent status!” Nat huffed, but she couldn’t quite hide her smile. “How rude.”

“Guess that means you _don’t_ want to be godmother?”

“Bite your tongue, Rogers!” Natasha barked.

“When do I get to be godfather?” Tony muttered, eyeing Kennedy who shook her finger at him.

“Don’t even start! He was born all of six hours ago.”

“Hey, Steve,” Jonas called as he glanced out the window. “Your surprise is here.”

“Crap!” Steve hopped up and darted toward the window. “I damn near forgot.” In all the excitement, he’d almost forgotten about Kennedy’s Christmas present. “Be right back, doll!”

“Steven?” she called out, but he was dashing toward the door and shoving his feet into boots which looked like they’d fit before running into the snow.

“Cliff,” he grinned at the old farmer when the man rolled down the window of his truck. “Thanks for doing this on Christmas.”

“Not a problem, Cap. Not a problem. That Kennedy’s a good girl,” the grizzled old man smiled a gap-toothed grin. “You let us know how she gets on. My Martha wants to see the baby when she has it.”

Steve’s smile nearly split his face, but he wasn’t going to spoil the surprise. “Why don’t you and her come around this afternoon for a visit? You can see how Kennedy liked her present.”

“Yeah? Maybe we will at that.” He patted Steve’s shoulder out the window of his truck. “You wish the Jones’s a very merry for me, and we’ll see you all later.”

Steve waved as he drove off. Old man Cliff owned the farm down the road, and back in the summer when they’d been up for the wedding, Steve had ended up helping Matt and Jesse with the man’s cattle when the old guy had broken his foot. It had been then he’d gotten the idea for the perfect gift for Kennedy, and the old man had become a willing participant in his scheme. They’d struck up a friendship, chatting over war stories, and Steve had grown exceedingly fond of him and his wife.

He headed back into the house and tucked Kennedy’s gift behind his back as he toed off his borrowed boots. At the doorway he paused, his eyes taking in the family, all of them, who he cherished more than anything in the world, until finally coming to rest on Kennedy whose emerald green eyes were bright with excitement. “Now…” he began, causing the room to fall silent. “I know this might not be the _best_ time for this but I did think we’d have another month before James was born.”

Bringing his hand from behind his back, he held the golden retriever puppy in his big palms. “Merry Christmas, Kennedy.”

“A puppy…” she gasped, eyes watering. “You got me a puppy.”

“Even cleared it with Tony first,” he said, striding toward her to crouch down with the red ribbon-bedecked pup.

“I can’t believe… a puppy,” she sighed, taking the little female in her hands and giggling when the puppy licked her chin.

“Well, I seem to recall someone mentioning how one day she’d really like to have a family, and a dog, and a husband who thought the world of her,” he said softly, cupping Kennedy’s cheek. “You already had the last, and you were on your way to the first, I figured why not give you everything you want when you’ve already given it to me?”

“Oh, Steven,” she whispered as tears spilled down her face. “I love you.”

Joy unending bloomed in his heart as he looked from her to his son, back in the arms of his godfather. Bucky’s smirk was a touch wet from the tears on his cheeks.

Steve lifted up on his knees to kiss his wife, scratched the puppy’s ear, and smiled. “Merry Christmas, Kennedy. My beautiful Canadian girl.”

**_-The End-_ **


	18. Daddy Day Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the-real-kellymonster asked: If you're taking anymore Drabble requests then can I ask for a Canadian Girl Drabble?!? They've got the baby now who's almost 3 months old and there's the puppy too. Maybe Steve's left in charge of them alone for like a weekend while Kennedy speaks at a medical conference. I'm just imagining a very overwhelmed Steve. Idk, something like that, maybe? I know it's been done but I love Canadian Girl stuff so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Fluff

## Daddy Daycare

Kennedy was highly suspicious when she returned to the farmhouse after her day of speaking at a symposium in Calgary, attended by hundreds, to hear about her findings in regards to MS research. Finally, three years after she’d cracked the code on the super soldier serum, she was able to claim with certainty she’d found a potential cure for MS and clinical trials were about to begin. 

The suspicion, however, came from the fact the house was incredibly quiet. Too quiet when it was inhabited by her three-year-old son, his super soldier father, and a rambunctious golden retriever who had nearly the same energy level as both of them combined. 

When the symposium had been announced, Steve had insisted the Avengers handle security, but she had put her foot down when he’d become an overbearing pain the petunia. Yes, she was pregnant with their second child. Yes, she knew how dangerous it was to be out in public without an escort. No, she wasn’t declining protection, she was simply declining _his_ protection. 

It sounded harsh, but Kennedy knew one of the super-powered soldiers needed to be around to keep her son out of trouble. James was a handful. Strong, smart, and daring - just like his daddy - and at the age of three, he was already well versed in getting into trouble. They’d had to teach him young to be careful as he had once accidentally broken Kennedy’s finger by grabbing her hand too tightly. His little heart had been absolutely crushed that he’d hurt his mommy, and Steven and Bucky had become the go-to’s when he wanted to roughhouse and tumble.

Thor was also a willing playmate, but he was often busy.  Vision would take the boy on but the android’s concept of ‘playfighting‘ had been lacking. Vis had watched Bucky and Steve ‘lose‘ to her son without understanding completely why, until one day he’d come to her and said simply, “I understand now. They are the male lions teaching the cub to hunt. I will assist.” After, he’d become a much more fun addition according to James.

But when this opportunity had arisen, Kennedy had put her foot down and insisted Steven stay home with their son. He’d been gone a lot lately, working all over the world so when she had their second child, he could take a breather and be around for a while. They already knew baby number two was a girl thanks to a slip up by Bruce who was still kicking himself for saying _she_ at one of their last ultrasounds, but Kennedy didn’t mind. Steve was over the moon excited about a daughter, and so was Kennedy. 

But with a rambunctious three year old, there should have been a lot more noise coming from the living room which had become James’ favorite space to hang out when inside. 

Quietly, she snuck through the house, wondering if maybe Steve had gotten James to sit down long enough to read a story, but when she peeked around the doorway, she had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing. 

Steven was sprawled out on the floor fast asleep, Goldy was laying half on top of his hip, and James was coloring… everything. 

The dog had one pink ear and one blue. There were scribbles in her coat, and she looked absolutely pitiful with her sad eyes staring at Kennedy. The coffee table was covered with Crayola markers, scribbles and doodles, some she recognized as formulas written on the whiteboards in her office. That gave her pause, for though she knew her son was ridiculously advance for three, she had likened him to closer to five or six for intelligence, but seeing those perfectly copied formulas, she now wondered if he knew what they were or if he just had a good eye and memory. Steve was a pretty fantastic artist, after all. Perhaps James was picking up another talent?

She shook her head, deciding to think about it later and let her gaze follow the flowing lines of color and drawings that covered every flat surface from walls to floors to windows, wherever the boy could reach, and a few not so flat surfaces, like Steve.

She pressed her lips together to keep the laughter in as she walked into the living room. “James, sweetie. Did you have fun with daddy today?” she asked softly, not yet willing to wake her clearly exhausted husband.

James looked up and flashed Steve’s crooked smile. “Mommy!“ he squealed, instantly waking Steve.

“Buddy?“ he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. 

“Steven,” Kennedy smirked when he smeared the colorful marker down his cheek. James had circled both eyes in blue, colored his entire forehead the same color, added a large black A and a pretty good copy of Steve’s shield to each cheek. Both arms below his sleeves had been colored as well. The left looked surprisingly like Bucky’s arm, while the right was simply colored in doodled shapes and cartoonish animals. 

Steve reached down and gave Godly’s ears a scratch while smiling at her. “How‘d it go?“

“Excellent,“ she snickered. “Hard day?”

“Nah!“ he scoffed. “We had great fun, didn’t we, buddy?“

“Yes, daddy!“ James giggled.

Steve’s eyes widened as he took in the state of the living room. “Oh, shi-oot! James!”

“Look down, Steven,” Kennedy snorted, unable to hold back her laughter any longer.

Steve’s chin dropped open as he turned his arms over to see both sides. “Damn, kid‘s got talent.“

“You should see your face!” Bucky burst from the doorway, his laughter loud and full-bellied. “Oh man! Where‘s my phone? I need to get a picture.”

“No, you don‘t!“ Steve bellowed, lurching to his feet to chase Bucky from the room. 

Bucky ran out laughing, and Steve paused at Kennedy’s side to place his hands on her belly. “How’re my girls?“

“We‘re fine, but you really should go wash that off before he gets a picture.” Kennedy kissed his chin, the only place without felt marker. “And maybe he wore you out, just a little?“ 

Steve gave a sheepish grin. “I don‘t know how someone who isn‘t enhanced and who‘s pregnant keeps up with him. You‘re a miracle, baby.” He kissed her lips and hurried away, the dog hot on his heels. “I’ll come help clean that up in a few minutes!“

Kennedy only snickered as she looked down at her son. “Well, trouble? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Daddy pretty,“ he quipped and giggled as he held his arms up to her. “Me help?”

“Oh, you‘re going to help alright. This was your mess.” She picked him up and put him on her hip. “Thank the good lord for whoever invented washable markers.”

“House pretty,” James pouted. “Like Mommy.“

She smirked and kissed his cheek. “A sweet talker, just like your daddy.” He giggled and hugged her with gentle arms around her neck. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get cleaning before grandma and grampa get back and see your attempt at decorating.”

“Cookie?“ he asked.

Kennedy only smiled and nodded because a cookie sounded good to her too.

**-The End-**


	19. Poppies: A Canadian Girl Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remembrance Day is incredibly important to my family. My grandfather stood guard for many a year at the cenotaph in Athabasca, so this story is near and dear to my heart. I hope you enjoy it and take a moment between now and the 11th to honour and remember those who’ve made the ultimate sacrifice in service to our countries and in the pursuit of freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: A little sad, but mostly fluffy

## Poppies: A Canadian Girl Story

* * *

The poppies always did him in. Those bright red flowers with their flat black centers. They reminded him of those who’d gone before him. Of the fallen soldiers. The ones he’d known personally, and the ones whose names had long ago been forgotten.

Steve could remember every face and every name of every soldier who’d fought for him and died. He could remember everyone who’d been on missions with him for SHIELD and never came back. He knew them all like he knew his own name, and the poppies in their blood-red glory brought all those names raging back.

Every year when Veteran’s Day rolled around, he put on his Captain’s face and didn’t allow the grief to show.

Kennedy knew, of course. She sat with him at night when the memories grew so loud he couldn’t fight them any longer and allowed the tears to stream silently down his face. Her quiet presence helped keep him grounded when the worst of the demons got out of the cage he’d stuffed them in.

Having his son James and now little Sarah Natalia, his six-month-old daughter and light of his life, the apple of his eye, helped even further. He could look at his children and see what he was fighting for. He could hold his wife and know why he placed himself in harm's way.

They were his world.

Kennedy had gone with him more than once to Veteran’s Day celebrations. All had been highly publicized with too many grinning politicians and not enough reverence to Steve’s mind. They used it as another platform to push their personal agenda rather than honour those men and women who’d laid down their life for their country.

He’d hated every minute of it.

This year, however, old man Cliff, who Steve had gotten Kennedy’s dog Goldie from for Christmas the year James was born, had invited them to join in the Remembrance Day ceremonies in his hometown of Athabasca, Alberta.

Steve had agreed on one condition. No press. He wanted one day to honour the fallen without it feeling like a PR opportunity. Cliff had snickered, because really, when was Steve ever recognized when he didn’t want to be when he came home to Canada?

Steve had chuckled at that. It was true. Even when he was recognized in the small town outside of Kennedy’s family ranch, people would nod, call him Steve, and continue on about their business. Sometimes new people would point and grab the nearest passerby and ask if they knew who that - he - was. More often than not, the answer would be, “Yeah. Steve. He’s Jonas’s son-in-law,” and people would deflate.

It was amusing, and Steve enjoyed it more than he probably should.

Today though as he stood staring into the mirror, he tugged at his uniform jacket. “You’re sure this isn’t weird?” he asked Kennedy, glancing over his shoulder at her nursing Sarah.

“Steve, it’s your uniform. Bucky’s wearing his too. You guys look fine.”

“I don’t want people to think I'm insincere. You know. Doing that thing where the kids dress up as other people.”

“Cosplay?” Kennedy giggled as Sarah detached from her breast and smacked her lips. 

“Yeah,” Steve smirked and threw one of Sarah’s spit up rags over his shoulder. He collected his daughter from her mother and brought her to his shoulder where he gently rocked and patted her back while admiring Kennedy as she tucked herself together.

She looked beautiful in a dark blue wrap dress which showed off her curves. Sensible black, stacked heel boots went to her knees where sheer black stockings lightly covered her legs. She stood and picked up her coat, a bright blue wool peacoat which left little more than an inch of her skirt hanging out the bottom. “No, Steve. You don’t look like you’re cosplaying.” A scarf of white cashmere he’d bought her last Christmas went around her neck, and she adjusted it so her poppy showed on her collar.

“Yeah, but-”

“No, yeahbuts!” she huffed. “And just for the record, you look damn fine in your uniform, Captain.”

A smirk twitched up Steve’s lips. “You think so, do you, Mrs. Rogers?”

“Super sexy,” she smiled and moved toward him when Sarah let loose a belch worthy of her Uncle Thor. “Doesn’t he, baby?” she cooed to Sarah who giggled and kicked her feet. “I bet you’re going to fill your drawers ten minutes into this thing. Aren’t you, stinker?”

Steve watched Kennedy tease and tickle their daughter as she got her dressed in a pair of white leotards and pink dress before tucking her into a coat that was a miniature version of Kennedy’s.

It was ridiculously impractical for a baby who would grow out of it in a month, but Tony liked to spoil them both.

A knock on the hotel door had Steve moving toward it where Bucky was waiting with James in his arms. “Hey, buddy. You have fun with Uncle Buck?”

“Yup!”

The boy grinned, and Steve eyed Bucky suspiciously. “What did you do?”

“Nothing! How dare you imply I did anything wrong,” Bucky huffed and set James down to shove past Steve and go steal Sarah from Kennedy. “There’s my girl.”

“My girl,” Steve and Kenny said at the same time.

“You two made her, but she loves me best. Don’t you, pretty girl?” Bucky cooed only to take two sharp smacks to the face as Sarah babbled happily. “Woah. Packs a wallop already.”

“And that would be why I wear my hair up and no longer wear earrings,” Kennedy snickered. “And why Steve packs her when she’s grumpy.” She waved James over and combed down his hair before turning the boy around to brush the dust off his backside. “Barnes, whatever you were doing, I don’t want to know.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky chuckled, heading for the door.

Steve gave the long hair on Bucky’s shoulders a flick. “Well, that’s against regulations.” 

“There’s a hair tie in my hat, punk,” Bucky muttered.

“And your hat is where?” Kennedy snickered.

“It went whoosh!” James giggled.

“You rat!” Bucky frowned at James, but they all knew he didn’t mean it. “It’s in the car… now.”

Steve chuckled and held out his hand. “Time to get this herd on the march. You warm enough, Doc?”

“Steve.” She tossed him a condescending look.

“I know! I know! This isn’t cold,” he huffed. “I’m still going to ask.”

“Then yes, Steven, I’m perfectly fine. Your children are little furnaces like you so they will be doubly fine, just let me get Sarah’s hat.” She picked up the small white toque with the fluffy pink pom-pom, and Sarah’s face scrunched up. Her lip quivered, and she looked at Steve with big, sad blue eyes.

“Don’t do that, little girl,” Steve whined, already feeling himself cave. “She’s six months old. How does she know how to do that?”

“She knows daddy is a big suck,” Bucky snickered.

Kenny handed him the hat. “Just put it on her, Steven. She’ll be fine once we get outside.”

A fat tear rolled down Sarah’s cheek as Steve fit the hat over her peach fuzz of red hair.

“Look, Sarah!” James piped up as he rushed over to the table and grabbed his toque, one emblazoned with the Avengers logo on it, and ran back to plop it on his head. “I’ll wear mine too!” Almost instantly the tears dried up as Sarah laughed and clapped her hands.

“Crisis averted. Let’s go.” Kennedy shooed them all out the door.

***

Steve hadn’t known what to expect, but the quiet crowd of people gathered outside the Legion Hall beneath tall, ancient spruce trees, surrounding a stone cenotaph hadn’t been it. People of all ages were represented. The older men decked out in uniforms similar to Bucky’s and his own. Four men stood guard at the corners of the stone.

There was a hush, for the most part, interrupted once in a while by a spate of giggles or the murmur of low conversation. Kennedy reached out and touched his poppy, tapping it back into place. Her hand squeezed his, while James stood in front of him looking around. Cliff had let Steve know the elder man would be participating this year, so he’d given them directions and said he’d see them after the ceremony in the Legion Hall.

Bucky cuddled Sarah, keeping her occupied and happy. His daughter adored her uncle, and the feeling was mutual. Bucky practically lived on their floor these last six months, entirely over the moon with his goddaughter.

When the sound of marching feet echoed up the street, the crowd went silent and turned toward the noise in anticipation. Flag bearers and a drummer appeared first. Then the veterans came, each with his or her head held high. They marched in and stood waiting. Without needing to be told, they removed their hats as a young woman came forward.

Steve reached up for his the same time Bucky did, removing his hat as she began to sing the Canadian National Anthem. When she finished, he waited, watching the men as they continued to stand without moving. Orders were called out, and when “Attention!” was shouted, he straightened and so did Buck.

A bugler lifted his horn to his lips, and Last Post sounded. A lump filled Steve’s throat.

“We’ll now observe two minutes of silence,” Cliff said bowing his head.

Kennedy’s hand tightened in Steve’s.

In those long two minutes, he thought about those who were gone. He thought about Pinky, Junior, and Falsworth. Dum Dum, Morita and Gabe. Happy and Jacques. He thought about all the missions they’d gone on together, and all the times they’d watched each other's backs. He thought about Howard Stark, and how proud the man would be of Tony and all his son had accomplished. Even Peggy crossed his mind. So many friends, so much family, gone.

When the piper began playing it was a surprise which had him jolting as he shook himself free from the memories.

Then Cliff stepped forward again. “They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them.”

The choked feeling in Steve’s throat grew thicker.

A local preacher came forward and prayers were said, but Steve couldn’t quite see anymore. The tears he fought had fogged the lenses of his aviator shades.

Soon, people began to come forward and lay wreaths against the stone, honouring the lost. When Cliff walked toward him with a small green wreath covered in poppies, Steve fought to clear his throat.

“I know you didn't want to be in some big media circus, but I thought… if anyone should lay a wreath, it should be you, Captain.” Cliff held out the wreath.

Kenny reached out and took it when Steve couldn't find the words. “Thank you, Cliff. He's honoured. Truly.”

Cliff nodded and walked away, an understanding smile on his face. Kenny stole the hat from beneath Steve’s arm and plopped it down on James' toque. The boy giggled but didn't say anything, seeming to understand the seriousness of the moment.

“You should do it, Steve. You need to,” Bucky encouraged.

With a shaking hand, Steve took the wreath, but before he could walk away, Kennedy took Sarah from Bucky and placed her in Steve's arm.

“Take your girl with you.” She smiled gently and winked. “James has done this before. We'll wait.”

They’d asked him and his son to lay a wreath years ago, causing a media circus Steve had despised, but this was different.

The air here was cold. The sun warm. The snow a pure white. Poppies in all their red glory waited at the base of the stone. A few people looked at him, but no one paid him much mind when Steve stepped out with his beautiful baby girl.

The crunch of his highly polished shoes on the snow sounded overly loud in his ears, so he turned his attention to his daughter. “You know what this is, baby girl?” He showed her the wreath but didn't let her grab it. “It's a way of laying flowers on the graves of all those who went before us. Who fought to keep us safe.”

She babbled a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sheep.

“It's pretty important to remember them. They made big sacrifices so little girls like you could grow up in a safe place.” Steve slowly crouched and set the wreath against the stone. “People like the Commandos, your Uncle Tony's papa, Aunt Peggy who you won't get to meet for a real long time, and even your Uncle Bucky. All of ‘em deserve every accolade, every medal, and every honour bestowed on ‘em,” his voice rasped with the last word.

Plucking the poppy from his jacket, Steve pressed the pin into the wreath. “You may be gone, but I'll never forget you.”

As he stood, he wiped the tears from his cheeks. His shades would do the rest to hide his wet, red eyes. He was caught however by the sight of Kennedy, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. She knew, and he adored her all the more for it. 

Bucky had his phone out, likely taking pictures, but Steve didn't mind so much. These images would be for family, not for publicity.

The burden of all those lost souls seemed to get a little lighter as he walked away from the stone, Sarah humming and giggling in his arm. He looked down at her with her big scrunchy grin.

“Love you, cutie, but did you just fill your pants?” She blew a raspberry and slapped her hands together. “That's what I thought.”

Kenny swiped at her face and took her from him, the diaper bag hanging on her shoulder. “I've got this. Meet you inside.”

“I'll go with her,” Bucky said, tapping his fist on Steve's shoulder. “You did good, punk. The men would be proud.”

He patted Bucky's shoulder, then took his hat back from James, and lifted the boy to his hip.

“I like it here, Daddy. It's quiet.”

“It is,” Steve agreed, looking up at the towering pines.

The priest from earlier returned and offered a blessing on the people and the day, and Steve smiled, at peace for the first time all morning.

“You did good, son,” one of the old men who'd stood on the cenotaph said, offering his hand which Steve was happy to shake. “You wear that to honour your granddad?” He motioned to Steve’s uniform.

James frowned. “This is my Daddy's uniform. He earned it.”

The old man smiled at James. He had a chest full of medals, and a ceremonial rifle slung over his shoulder. “I'm sure he has, son. I'm sure he has. Afghanistan?” he asked.

“Among other places,” Steve said.

“But American? What brings you up to our little town?”

“My wife and family are Canadian, and Cliff invited us up for a… quiet Remembrance Day.”

“Well, you look mighty fine in that uniform.” The man patted his shoulder. “Your men would be proud.”

Steve smiled, genuine and wide. “I sure hope so.”

The man walked away without offering his name, and Steve watched him go inside with the rest of the people until only he and his son remained beneath the tall pines and warm rays of the sun.

James leaned his head on Steve's shoulder. “I like your other suit better, Daddy.” 

“Yeah?” Steve asked, swinging James up and tossing him a few feet into the air. “Which one?”

James squealed and laughed, his blue eyes bright. “The one with the red and white belly.”

“Why?”

“You look like a clown!” James laughed as Steve boosted him high into the air again.

“Steven Grant!” Kennedy shouted, causing both Steve and James to freeze and stare at each other.

“Uh oh,” James whispered. “Mommy said your middle name.”

“I think I'm in trouble, buddy,” Steve grinned and went to grovel to his wife who knew both he and Bucky, Thor and Vision, tossed the boy around like a football, but didn't want to see it.

***

A year later, Steve was sprawled out on the sofa in the family room at the ranch watching the Remembrance Day Ceremony on TV.

When the two minutes of silence commenced, he looked down at the tiny bundle on his chest and kissed her sweet blonde head.

Born at two minutes past midnight, their third child had come into the world. She'd been a surprise, causing Kennedy to return to the drawing board when it came to effective super soldier birth control, but neither minded. A big family was a blessing, though Steve was also okay if they stopped here.

Three kids in six years. He felt blessed. He felt at peace. 

When Last Post began to play, he turned the TV down and gently touched his infant daughter's peach fuzz hair.

Kennedy was exhausted and sleeping, but Steve had wanted to spend some alone time with his new girl before the hoard of Avengers descended, and Mary and Jonas returned with his other children.

Cupping her tiny bum in his big hand, he felt tears threaten and placed another gentle kiss on her head. “Happy birthday, Hope Margaret Rogers.” Kennedy had insisted on Margaret, saying it was time to honour Peggy, but Steve had chosen Hope. 

A year ago when he'd laid the wreath at the cenotaph in a town where no one knew his name, he'd found hope and a renewed outlook on life. To have his second daughter born on November eleventh, he couldn't help but feel it a sign.

They’d decided Hope Margaret was a perfect name. 

Though Steve was pretty sure he would always call her, “Poppy.”

**_-The End -_ **


End file.
